Will Never Disappear
by blubs73
Summary: There's a problem with the Gland and time's running out for Darien. But how do you find a love struck Invisible Man on the run from the mob, who doesn't want to be found. COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1

"**Will Never Disappear"**

**Chapter 1**

**Set approx. 8 months after "The New Stuff"****and 1 month after my own fic "The Seeds of Destiny".**

You know, I was never really one of those people who liked to dwell too much on the past. A world of hurt, loss, rejection and downright disappointment lay back there, which is why one of my motto's has always been '_live for today…then move on fast.' _'Sides, misty-eyed sentiment didn't quite fit in with the whole wise-ass punk persona I'd worked so hard to perfect for most of my formative, law-breaking years.

What a shmuck huh?

Funny man Bill Cosby's take on the whole reminiscing thing kinda reflected my own when he said: '_The past is a ghost, the future a dream, and all we ever have is now.' _But, just lately…well, I can't seem to stop my thoughts from wandering back to those halcyon days, before I became one of the US government's most valuable and classified science projects.

Now I'm not saying things were better back then, just less… complicated. All that the thrill-seeking, care-free me really had to worry about was casing the next B&E job, getting a decent price from my fence for my ill-gotten-gains and staying one jump ahead of San Diego's finest.

See, Darien pre-2000 didn't have much in the way of responsibilities - or a fat bastard of a boss ordering him to get his ass kicked every five minutes by some fruitcake wielding a semi-automatic or a scalpel. Come to think of it, he also didn't have a paranoid, balding best buddy to keep him on the path of righteousness…I guess some things have definitely taken a turn for the better!

So why this current wistful wander down memory lane I hear you ask? Well….

_Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away,_

_Now it looks as though they're here to stay,_

_Oh, I believe in yesterday._

_Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be._

_There's a shadow hanging over me,_

_Oh, yesterday came suddenly._

…it was Friday night, and me and my happy band of Agency co-workers were hanging out together in a bar a few blocks from the Harding Building. While Hobbes racked 'em up ready for another game of pool, and Claire and Alex treated the lucky patrons of this fine establishment to their heartfelt, if slightly off-key and drunken rendition of the aforementioned Lennon/McCartney classic, care of the Karaoke machine, I volunteered to get the next round of drinks in.

So there I was, having a real good time and feeling pretty chilled after working 10 days straight without a break on a kidnapping case with our FBI buds, leaning with my back to the bar waiting my turn to be served. Then a husky female voice behind me was asking…

"Okay bud, what's your poison?"

I turned ready to place my order, eyes locking with hers…my smile instantly freezing in place.

After a few minutes of trying to out-stare each other she finally broke the silence, those full lips parting ever so slightly and genuine pleasure lighting those piercing green eyes. Oh man!

"Oh my God., Darien Fawkes!"

I was still too shocked to do anything more than grunt like a big dumb ass, like I had the first ever time I met Francesca Casati or Frankie as she liked to be called back then by her friends, which included…me. Well technically, we were more than friends. I was hooked big time for nearly half a year, until her over-protective, psycho mobster brother got paroled from prison and scared me off.

One of the only times in my life when it was me doing the actual leaving; and leave I did but with a heavy heart - and a few broken bones. But two lessons I've definitely learned the hard way are: don't mess with nature, and don't mess with the mob.

Even though Dominic Casati was into just about every crooked, dirty scam you could think of, when it came to his little sister only the best was ever going to be good enough. And back then I fell way short of what he considered la crème de la crème.

With an amused smile and a possible attempt to bring me out of my catatonic stupor, Frankie nodded her head in the direction of Claire and Alex who had set about murdering another Beatles classic, something about a long and winding road. Their mostly male appreciation society whistling and shouting encouragement.

"They with you?"

I risked a furtive glance over my shoulder and winced apologetically.. "Yeah, unfortunately."

"Oh."

For a moment I thought I caught a hint of disappointment in her voice., but the same warm smile was still in place so I couldn't be absolutely sure.

"Girlfriend…wife?"

"Uh…none…I mean neither. We're all just friends…work together," I spluttered. _Get a grip Fawkes._

For some reason this amused her. "Well, I guess it had to happen - Darien Fawkes gets an actual job."

I was grinning now as well "You'd better believe it sister." Taking the chance then to check her out properly. From her long dark hair with its soft auburn highlights tied back off her face, all high-cheek bones, full sensual mouth and flawless olive complexion, and that slender to-die-for body.

Wow!

Somehow my hand had found hers across the counter and I leaned in close.

"What is it seven/eight years, Frankie? Man, you look incredible."

She'd obviously done her own checking out too, and I was glad for the recent revamp of the Fawkes wardrobe - white long-sleeved tee shirt teamed with a pair of dark gray khakis. More expensive than my previous thrift store bargains, but the Agency was still reaping the benefits of the extra 'funding' that had come our way thanks to the generosity of the Department of Defense - where up until quite recently I'd spent an unpleasant little sabbatical cocooned in one of their underground facilities. And extra funding for once had meant sizeable bonuses for me, my partner Bobby Hobbes and my Keeper, Claire.

"You're looking pretty amazing yourself D." And when her hand reached out to touch my newly shorn locks I almost melted. "Short hair looks good on you too."

Just as I was about to impress her with a witty comeback, I found myself being jostled on one side by Hobbes and on the other by the giggling all-female Beatles tribute act.

"When you've finished hassling the bar staff Fawksey, any chance of getting those beers? We're just about dying of thirst over here" Then almost without drawing a breath and with his most disarming smile at the ready, "Well hello there lovely lady, Robert A. Hobbes at your service." Frankie obligingly held out her hand so that Hobbes could plant a gentlemanly kiss on the back of it.

I mumbled to Hobbes to get lost but he just wouldn't take the hint.

"If this man is bothering you I can always shoot him." Monroe offered jokingly…least I think she was joking!

"This is Francesca Cas…" I started the intros hoping to get rid of Hobbesy et al that little bit faster, but she cut in giving me one of those meaningful '_I'll explain later' _kinda stares.

"Uh Francesca Cassidy… but friends can call me Frankie. We go way back." She winked at me and I know I blushed. "So Robert, do you and Darien work together?"

"Yeah," I answered quickly on his behalf, not sure she was ready to hear quite how reformed I now was. "Bobby's my…."

"Conscience," Hobbes chimed in helpfully, a playful little smile on his face.

"And I'm his doctor." Claire slurred. For some reason this caused her and Alex to go into uncontrollable spasms of laughter. Ah, my sweet Keepie and her low alcohol threshold..

"And on that happy note," I added with a forced cheeriness. "I'd better get the children their drinks, so that they can run along and leave me and the nice lady to talk old times." My last sentence aimed deliberately at Hobbes, who was doing a fine impression of someone ignoring his partner…and soon to be former best friend if he didn't amscram…fast!

Eventually though the message sunk in, and with Claire and Alex latched onto his arms they weaved their way back to our table, Hobbes waggling his eyebrows suggestively in my direction as he went. I turned to Frankie ready to apologize but she was busy loading a tray with Coronas.

"So…uh…it'd be kinda nice to catch up on stuff. I don't suppose you'd wanna…?" I was a little out of practice on the whole asking out on a date thing and I guess it showed, so she saved me the embarrassment.

"I get off at midnight if you're interested?" Her fingers brushing mine briefly as she handed over the beers.

With the tray rattling in my trembling hands, I know I was grinning like some goofy adolescent as I reluctantly tore myself away and went back to join Hobbes and the ladies, already mentally counting off those minutes 'till midnight.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

It was a busy night in the bar, but every chance she got between serving customers Frankie would sneak a peak towards Darien's table. One time she'd even caught him staring straight back at her, until the small bald guy…what was his name…Bobby, had leaned in to whisper something that had the younger man turning away quickly in obvious embarrassment.

Then she got distracted by a rowdy group in for the night to celebrate a birthday or something, and the next time she had the chance to check him out …he'd gone. The empty glasses and beer bottles were already being cleared from the table Darien and his friends had occupied earlier.

The fact that he'd just left without even so much as a '_goodbye, see ya in another 7 years" _really bothered her, and meant she finished the rest of her shift under a cloud of melancholy. It seemed like fate or something had brought him to the bar tonight; the very last person she thought she would ever see again had turned up when she desperately needed someone.

Idle musings about fate and destiny were irrelevant now anyway; he'd disappeared from her life…again. And who could blame him? He'd probably had a flashback to the last time they'd been together - when he was lying stretched out on a gurney in ER, after her brother and two of his thugs had worked him over so badly he'd ended up with a broken arm, two busted ribs, a concussion and suspected internal bleeding; more than enough to scare him into ending their relationship. At the time she'd thought her entire world had ended, but she'd never blamed him for leaving, not for a single minute.

So, after convincing herself that she would never see him again, the last person Frankie expected to find outside the bar when she left a little after midnight was Darien Fawkes. But there he was, lounging casually against a wall, wide boyish grin in place the moment he spotted her.

They stared at each other awkwardly until Darien took the initiative and came forward, slipping his arms around Frankie and pulling her into a tight hug; his face burying itself in the silken strands of her long hair.

"Hmm, you even smell like I remember," he sighed after a moment, his arms loosening their grip just enough so that Frankie could pull back slightly and stare up at him in amusement.

"It's stale beer, hardly Chanel No. 5."

Darien chuckled. "Baby, on you anything would smell good."

"It's really good to see you Darien," she said honestly, then arched an eyebrow curiously. "But aren't you supposed to be in prison?"

Over the years she'd checked up on him every now and then through mutual friends, and she'd heard about his third strike in 2000. At the time, she'd been devastated, grieving for his lost freedom and for the sheer waste of all that hidden potential.

"Now that's a long story, and I don't think you'd believe it, even if I could tell you."

"Try me."

Darien smiled before running a finger along the line of her jaw and then planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Trust me, there are some things you're better off not knowing." His vague response made Frankie all the more curious, but she decided to drop it. Instead she grinned and nudged him playfully.

"Wanna walk me home, handsome?"

"Sure, as long as ole Dom ain't gonna jump out from some dark alleyway and beat me to a pulp," Darien teased and Frankie elbowed him in mock disgust as they turned and began to walk along the street, his hand finding hers and their fingers entwining almost without them realizing.

Darien took a furtive glance over his shoulder, back to where the black SUV was parked in the shadows on the corner of the street, just beyond the wide halo of light from a street lamp. The dark outlines of his two-man Agency 'protection team' barely discernible inside the stationary vehicle. "_A small price to pay for freedom"_ is how The Official had put it when he'd broken the news to Darien about the security protocol being put in place around him, supposedly as a temporary measure. But Darien didn't believe that for a minute, not while everyone still had the jitters about his safety following the DoD/ Ella Craven thing.

He'd lost the argument big time on this one, with Borden refusing to budge an inch at his emotionally charged protests. He either learned to live with 24/7 personal security - except when he was on active duty, then it was down to good ole Bobby Hobbes to watch his back - or move out of his apartment and into an agency safe house. Some choice.

The young couple were allowed to reach the end of the block before the vehicle's engine purred gently to life, the sharp beams from its headlights suddenly illuminating the road ahead as it began a slow but discreet pursuit.

It was a beautiful clear night still warm even at this late hour, and they strolled at an easy pace towards her rented apartment about 5 blocks over from the bar. Keeping up a steady banter, just enjoying the pleasure and familiarity of being together again.

Every now and then Frankie would gaze up at Darien in profile.. He'd always been a bit of a heart-breaker in the looks department, but there had been a fundamental change in him that went way deeper than his attractive outer packaging. It took her a while to realize exactly what it was; he'd dropped the brash often arrogant ex-con act he'd actively cultivated back then, even with her sometimes. This individual had matured and was a much gentler and more thoughtful version - probably the man he'd always been beneath those layers of deep routed insecurity.

The journey was over way too soon as far as Darien was concerned. It was a long time since he'd been so completely at ease with someone not connected to the I-Man Project, and it felt really good. Any social life he now had, if you could call it that, was more or less centered around his friends at the Agency; Bobby and Claire mostly.

"We're here." Frankie was motioning towards an apartment block that had obviously seen better days.

"Uh, well I guess now you're home safe I'd better uh…"

"Do you want to come in?" She cut in hesitantly and Darien glanced around, spotting the familiar SUV parking up a short distance away. Suddenly he found himself saying, "I…uh...don't think I should…"

Frankie didn't even try to mask her disappointment. "Okay, if you don't want to then I guess…" she let her words trail off, watching as Darien ran a hand through his hair and then started rubbing the back of his neck absently.

"That's the trouble Frankie, I _really_ do. But, well it's…complicated." He grinned apologetically.

She turned away from him abruptly and for a minute he thought she was about to cry.

"Hey, baby, I didn't mean….Aw crap."

"It's okay Darien, it really is." She flashed him a thin smile, feeling stupid all of a sudden. "It was just so good to see you. My life's gotten a little complicated lately too. I just really needed someone to talk to."

This time he didn't hesitate. "Listen, I'm so here if you need me, you know that right?" His hand had found hers again and he squeezed it, knowing that he wouldn't let go this time, and a moment later he followed Frankie through the entrance to her building and up to her apartment.

* * *

The small 4th floor studio was a little shabby but Frankie had done her best to make it as homely as possible, adding some of her own touches in an attempt to brighten the place up a bit She'd already told him she only took the lease for a month and would probably be leaving in a week or so.

Darien was curious to know what had happened to her old life. The main Casati family home had been a palatial spread out by the ocean and Frankie had literally wanted for nothing; her brother Dominic had made sure of that. The complete other end of the spectrum from…this.

As she came over to join him on the couch, placing two steaming mugs of coffee on the low table in front of them, Frankie seemed to read his mind and gave a nervous half smile.

"Guess you're wondering what happened to the spoiled rich brat, huh?"

"No…well yeah… kinda. Hey, you were never _that_ spoiled," he assured grinning mischievously.

Coiling her legs beneath her, she leaned back into the worn cushions and took a sip of her coffee, wrapping her hands around the mug as though it would bring her some form of comfort. "Yes I was," she stated flatly. "If I hadn't been so pampered, then maybe I wouldn't have turned a blind eye to what was going on for all those years."

"Ah, I assume you're referring to the charming Dominic?"

Frankie nodded sadly. "I let him rule my life, manipulate me to the point where I went along with him, and even helped cover up his shoddy little business deals when I had to."

"I know someone who could probably give ole Dom a real run for his money in the fine art of manipulation," he muttered vaguely, before reaching for his coffee. And she caught the hint of something…sadness maybe…in those dark brown eyes.

"Darien, the truth is that I haven't seen Dominic in nearly a year. I've been living…hiding out all over the place…Vegas up until recently." She watched him carefully to check his reaction, waiting for a sense that it was okay to continue.

"I sort of witnessed something…horrible…and went to the FBI with it." She shivered at the memory and Darien's arm suddenly looped around her shoulders protectively. The closeness and his body heat making her feel safer than she had in a long, long time and Frankie leaned in against him, grateful for his presence.

"Lemme guess," he continued for her. "The Fibbies promised to protect you if you'd testify against Dom, but then didn't deliver?"

Frankie's curiosity was peaked yet again by this cynical comment. "You sound like you're speaking from experience there." .

Shifting uneasily, Darien suddenly strengthened his grip on her shoulders, flashing a wistful smile before prompting her to continue. "Go on baby."

"I can't really blame them…the FBI. - Dominic has some powerful friends, who made it easy for him to find out where they were keeping me before the trial. My dear brother has come up in the world - his payroll now includes city officials, cops, a couple of congressmen and a full-blown senator.

"Before I went running to the Feds I made copies of some of Dominic's more personal files from his computer, detailing names, places, times and every dirty payment they've taken from him. Serves him right for trusting me with his passwords, huh?" She smiled wanly.

Darien stared in sheer disbelief. Even though she'd had moments of rebellion – and their former relationship definitely counted as one of those moments – her loyalty to her brother had never wavered, never been in question. Whatever she'd witnessed, it must have been pretty bad to cause her to turn her back on her old life and family. If he was going to help her, he had to know everything.

"What happened Frankie?" He probed gently.

For the longest time he didn't think she was actually going to answer, just staring sightlessly down at her hands now clasped tightly in her lap, until Darien laid his hand over both of hers. Finally she gave a tiny sob and started speaking in little more than a whisper. "I saw him beat a man to death." Choking back the tears as the horrifying memory resurfaced. "His name was Glenn Coleman and he worked for Dominic as a sort of personal assistant. He was a good man." With a voice faltering slightly she risked a quick anxious glance in Darien's direction. "But it turned out he was an undercover Federal Agent, and when Dominic found out…"

Darien nodded in understanding, having been on the painful receiving end of her brother's vicious temper.

"No one deserves to die like…that." Frankie wiped a hand across her tear-stained face, and for a moment Darien thought his heart would break at the look of despair. Almost instinctively his hand went to her cheek and his fingers delicately traced the track of one of her tear drops, wiping it away and she sniffed, grateful yet again for his touch.

"So you got away from the Feds and you ran?" Darien asked and she nodded absently. "Then why didn't you keep running? Why in hell did you come back here, particularly as I assume you have no intention of testifying now?"

Frankie averted her eyes, trying to conceal the shame she felt at her own fear; hoping he would somehow understand. "My mom's sick…she's in a hospital out near Ocean Beach. An old school friend of mine who's a nurse there, has been sneaking me in after hours to sit with her."

"Hey, I'm sorry Frankie." Darien remembered Mrs. Casati as a really nice lady; warm and friendly…and a great cook. He'd shared many a delicious evening meal with the two of them; until her son Dominic had been released from prison that is, and decided he wanted Darien Fawkes as far away from his family as possible.

"S'okay," she smiled weakly. "I just had to take the chance, to be near her you know?"

Darien nodded sympathetically, his arms going all the way round her now.

"So the job in the bar…?"

"Just temporary. A girl's gotta eat. And as you can see it also pays for my lavish lifestyle." With a wry smile she motioned with her eyes around the tiny apartment.

Frankie studied Darien intently for a moment knowing she was going to take the chance and tell him more. Some inner instinct told her that she could still trust him - that he wouldn't let her down.

"The disk with those files that I mentioned, well I came back for them too. I'm hoping that if I use them as leverage, then Dominic might be willing to call off the wolves and just let me get on with my life."

Darien pulled himself upright and placed both hands on her shoulders, staring straight at her intensely. "So, you're gonna let him off the hook again?"

Her eyes suddenly flashed with anger. "Well what do you want me to do? I'm just so tired of running." Frankie took a calming breath, knowing she was really angry with herself, not Darien. "I've had to move more times than I can remember in the last year 'cause Dominic or the Feds were breathing down my neck. I've just had enough Darien, please try to understand?"

"I do, I really do." A moment later he relaxed. "So, how can I help?"

Even though she'd hoped to hear those words from him, she still couldn't quite believe that he'd said them, so unconditionally, to someone he hadn't seen for so many years and who had no right to expect anything from him.

"I…uh… need to get the disk." She started tentatively, figuring this could actually be the deal breaker, particularly when he found out where she'd hidden them.

"Okay, so we'll go and get 'them," Darien stated with an easy shrug . "Where'd you stash it, a safety deposit box or somethin'?"

"Well not exactly." Frankie winced sheepishly. "I sort of hid it in Dominic's study and just never got the chance to go back for it."

He seemed to dwell on this little snippet of information before a devilish smile spread slowly across his handsome face, reminding Frankie of the brash young thief she had been so in love with back then.

"Well that's gonna be…interesting."

"You're serious, aren't you," she said incredulously, "about helping me?"

"Sure am," he said emphatically. "Have to warn you though, I'm a bit rusty on the whole house B&E thing."

"I'm glad to hear that…I think." She gazed at him in something bordering on awe. "You really are a reformed character, I never would have believed it. The Darien Fawkes I knew was the proverbial thrill junkie."

He chuckled. "Yeah, well these days I get most of my thrills during normal working hours." Of course what he couldn't tell her was that those 'thrills' invariably came with a price…abject terror… and usually involved some lunatic intent on world domination trying to get their hands on him and the little bio-synthetic entity lodged firmly in his head.

"And you still haven't told me what your work is…exactly?" Frankie probed half-teasing.

"That one's just gonna have to keep." Darien offered mysteriously as he languidly stretched his long frame before glancing at his watch. "Hey, look at the time. I guess I should be leav…"

The words caught in his throat as Frankie did something she'd been aching to do practically from the moment she'd seen him again in the bar. Her hand snaked behind his neck tugging his head down, her soft full lips finding his. Kisses tentative and probing at first, but suddenly acquiring an exhilarating urgency for both of them until they pulled apart, breathless and a little shocked by the intensity of the contact.

Darien still looked dazed as Frankie's fingers began tracing slowly and deliberately across the soft material of his tee shirt. As much as he welcomed her touch, wanted nothing more than to follow through and maybe spend the rest of the night snuggled up to this beautiful woman, it would be better for both of them if he left. Apart from anything else, if he was going to put his old skills to good use again then he definitely needed to get in some quality shut eye.

He was also half- expecting one of his Agency minders to come crashing through the door any minute and remind him that he was… "Not permitted to compromise his top level security classification, by engaging in physical contact with a civilian person or persons without the necessary authorization." Darien grinned then despite himself, wondering if he had time to get back to the office and fill in the appropriate request forms in quadruplicate before things got too heated here.

"Frankie, maybe this isn't such a good idea…"

"I don't bite," she purred, snuggling in even closer.

"Well that's a shame," he quipped, letting his hands roam over her body.

"I really don't want you to go just yet." Frankie whispered as she started placing small kisses all along his collar bone and neck and he whimpered softly, his resolve slipping away by the second.

"Oh you're so bad," he growled, finally giving up the fight as he grabbed her and pulled her down on top of him.

* * *

Darien left just before dawn. Pausing in the doorway of the old apartment block to button his jacket and turn up the collar as added protection against the early morning chill.

His 'minders' were parked right outside the building just as he'd anticipated, one of them holding open the back door of the SUV expectantly for him. Darien guessed that they had been in the apartment block the whole time he was, probably hovering right outside Frankie's front door, or guarding the exits…whatever! He considered the offer for a moment but then shook his head, motioning that he was going to walk. He definitely needed to clear his head and think.

A grin touched his face as he thought about Frankie, and of the sheer pleasure of re-discovering each other after so long. The fact that the passion and chemistry was still there, had been the main reason why he'd been determined not too take things too far too soon, reigning in his impulses when he'd wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her; make love and forget everything else, and she had wanted it as much as he did. But for the moment he wasn't willing to take the chance, even though he had the Quicksilver 'problem' more or less under control these days.

Forcing himself to tear his thoughts away from the memory of Francesca Casati… and those kisses and her soft touches…and back to the reality of what he was going to do for her; something that could potentially land him in deep shit if he got caught, though he had no intention of that happening if he could help it.

It was his hope that once Frankie had the disk he'd be able to convince her to turn herself over to the FBI, or maybe he would even ask the Fat Man to call in some favors to protect her.

But first things first!

At his suggestion Frankie was packing up her few possessions and moving out of her apartment that day. It didn't take huge powers of deduction to work out that the moment Darien disappeared off the Agency radar, this was going to be one of the first places they came looking for their AWOL Invisible Man. He needed a place to lay low for the rest of the weekend, so they'd arranged to meet up by noon in a little motel he knew in Pacific Beach.

All he had to do now was get the agency goons off his back - something that hadn't given him much of a problem on previous occasions, but they were definitely wising up now and had even started carrying thermal shades. Still, he had a few more tricks up his sleeve he thought, smirking.

Then he just had to get himself into the Casati residence, grab the disks and get out again. A basic, straightforward B&E job…piece of cake.

What could possibly go wrong?

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Apologies to any readers still out there for the delay in posting these chapters, but a minor computer problem plus work and personal commitments (damn them) have been the cause - that and my habit of constantly re-writing.

It's far from perfect and I may actually re-write these chapters completely once I've posted the complete fic, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy.

By the way, in Chapter 4 there's a reference to 'The Rubber Ducky Pool Cleaning Service', which does actually exist. I needed a name and I checked online and, well, it just seemed to fit.

The entire fic is almost complete and will be posted very, very soon.

**Chapter 3**

For someone who by his own admission was not a 'morning person', four measly hours of sleep could never be considered anywhere near enough as far as Darien was concerned. But he somehow managed to rouse himself as soon as the digital alarm started its irritating beeping, kicking back the covers with a weary sigh and just lying there for a few minutes, staring at the bit of ceiling right above his bed. Finally, with a yawn and a long stretch he hauled himself up, scratching his butt as he traipsed bleary-eyed over to the kitchen for his morning caffeine fix, before hitting the shower.

When he emerged from the bathroom 20 minutes later he looked and felt a whole lot better. Dressing quickly in a favorite pair of jeans and white tee shirt, he gathered the few essential items he would need for the weekend and as part of his temporary escape plan, cramming most of it into a compact backpack. Then he pulled on a loose fitting red cotton shirt, Quicksilvered the backpack which he hoisted up over his shoulder, and exited his apartment a little after 10.00am, ready to face the day.

The security SUV was stationed right across the street in its regular spot and Darien nodded briefly to the two-man team de jour, not even sure if these were the same pair from earlier. It made little difference who they were actually, 'cause the suited, faceless clones were about to get a master class in the mundane.

He kept his pace casual, hands jammed out of habit into the pockets of his jeans and doing a good job of passing himself off as someone with a lot of spare time on his hands. Within the first couple of blocks he'd been in and out off a half dozen stores, including the local dry cleaners where he shared a few minutes of mutual flirtation with the pretty young assistant that ended with her scribbling her telephone number on the back of his receipt; and a small bakery a couple of doors along for some delicious hot-out-of- the- oven oatmeal cookies, which he ate as he walked.

Another 30 minutes or so was spent aimlessly wandering, sometimes just pausing to check out a store window display, all the while perfectly aware that one of the security mooks would be lurking in the background somewhere, shadowing him on foot. Darien's aim was to lull them into a false sense of normality…or with any luck bore them to death somewhere along the way.

The last and most important stop off was at his friendly neighborhood deli. The popular store was always busy, particularly at the weekend and today was definitely no exception. The place was heaving and Darien quickly maneuvered himself into the center of the large crowd of customers, all clamoring to get their weekend provisions.

The security foot soldier was nothing if not predictable as he appeared in the open doorway, concern etched all over his face as he scanned the crowd for the wayward I-Man and Darien grinned amiably, giving a small wave for good measure as the man finally spotted him. Their track record in tailing him was pathetic, and he knew that none of them relished the prospect of having to report back that they'd lost Fawkes…again! But the problem was they usually made it so damned easy, which was why Darien took every opportunity to slip the leash, more often than not just for the sheer hell of it and to make a point to the Fat Man and his mysterious 'superiors' that he, well…could..

As soon as the security goon had backed off, probably to report to his partner in the SUV now parked curbside, that Fawkes was just buying his groceries - nothing out of the ordinary - Darien extricated himself from the rest of the crowd and headed quickly to the back of the store, down a narrow passageway with a kitchen on one side and a storeroom on the other, to the door which he knew led to the alley that ran behind all of the buildings on this block..

Checking to make sure he wasn't being watched, Darien closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, and an instant later the familiar and oddly comforting chill of the Quicksilver enveloped his entire body, which shimmered momentarily before fading completely from sight. If anyone had come upon the scene at that particular moment, all they would have witnessed is the door opening and closing as if by itself. Once outside, Darien's invisible form scanned the long alleyway spotting exactly what he needed almost straight away, about two thirds of the way along on the opposite side

The short Oriental chef lounged across the open doorway of the restaurant, enjoying a smoke before he had to start preparing for the lunchtime rush. But mostly he'd come outside to escape his wife's incessant nagging. Even now he could hear her high-pitched accusatory tone above the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen beyond, and he rolled his eyes as he snapped back an irritable response in Mandarin before switching to heavily-accented English.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm comin'. What's a man gotta do to have 5 minutes peace and quiet around here, huh!" Actually he had no intention of rushing and eased himself back against the doorframe, taking another long draw on his cigarette with a contented sigh.

"Gimme that,." a disembodied voice growled, as the cigarette was suddenly snatched from his fingers by some unseen entity. "Don't you know these things are bad for you, little buddy?"

"What's that, who's there?" He jumped, almost losing his footing as he spun practically a full circle searching the empty space . His eyes widening in shock as he caught a low throaty chuckle, just as an icy 'something' brushed his face and his white chef's hat was plucked from his head by the invisible tormenter. The hat dangled in mid air before it started to move in bizarre swirling patterns around his head with an accompanying, "_Wooo, woohoo," _added for effect. A second or two later the hat flew upwards in a long arc across the other side of the alleyway, finally settling atop a dumpster.

"_Fetch!" _Came the voice so close to the chef's ear that he swore he could feel hot breath on his cheek even though no-one was there. He backed out of the alley in panic slowly at first and then turning at a dead run, babbling in Mandarin and swatting the area around him to ward off what he was now convinced had to be an evil spirit.

With the human obstruction blocking his escape route now effectively removed, the still invisible Darien entered into the kitchen, passing right on through to the restaurant itself beyond a set of swing doors and then to the main exit which brought him out on the street running parallel to the deli. There was no time to lose now, it was just a matter of time before his minders realized he had gone and started scouring the block for him.

Using the canopied and shadowed entrance to the restaurant as his cover, he let the Quicksilver flake from his body and moved quickly down the street.

Someone up there definitely liked him today he decided as soon as he spotted the cab on the corner of the block, just about to deposit its elderly female passenger and her very ugly little dog onto the sidewalk. Darien rushed forward offering a hand to gently help her the rest of the way out, with a winning smile that had her blushing like a schoolgirl.

A moment later Darien was hunched down as far as could go in the back of the cab as it pulled back out into the late morning traffic, on his way to the rendezvous with Frankie.

* * *

He made good time out to Pacific Beach where Frankie was already waiting for him outside the motel. Then it was just a matter of checking them in as a couple using one of the fake ID's left over from his less than law biding past, which he'd held onto it mostly for old -times sakes…and emergencies. He'd also brought along a wad of cash from his 'rainy day stash' - about $1,500 - which he figured would be enough to cover their expenses over the weekend.

Hobbes knew all about his hidden booty, of course, even the location of his partner's secret hidey-hole built into the back of the closet in his apartment, and Darien knew that he knew, but with any luck the seasoned agent's uncanny inbuilt 'Fawkes Alarm' hadn't been triggered and he would just assume that Darien had taken off for a dirty weekend with the little honey from the bar. Bobby would give him hell for it on Monday though, Darien was certain of that, but it would be worth it to help Frankie.

The fake documents and cash were also used to rent them the car they drove to La Jolla, to spend the rest of the afternoon scouting the area around Frankie's old family home, with Darien pressing her for as much information as she could recall about the security system, and roughly how many staff would be on duty over the weekend.

Afterwards they took a leisurely drive back, stopping off for dinner in a small seafood restaurant where they were shown to a table on the outside terrace with sweeping views of the ocean.

The fact that they were totally at ease and relaxed in each others company didn't really surprise Darien. He'd always felt comfortable with Frankie; she'd never been judgmental or tried to change him like most of the other women in his life, and though a strong physical attraction was what had first brought them together back then, their relationship had been heading for something much deeper by the time brother Dominic appeared on the scene to spoil things.

Now as the last rays of sunlight disappeared below the horizon, he stared at the woman seated across the table from him, the flickering glow from the candle in the center of their table giving her lovely face an ethereal quality that was truly breathtaking. With her hair hanging lose the way he'd always liked it, and the pink cotton dress cut to perfectly accentuate her stunning figure, Darien knew he'd been the envy of practically every male in the restaurant as they'd made their way hand in hand to their table.

Their meal over, they were just relaxing over a glass of red wine when music started to play softly in the background. Darien chuckled the moment he recognized the opening bars to the Beatles' 'Something'. "These guys seem to be following us around. Must be an omen or somethin'." He gestured enquiringly towards the small section of terrace that doubled as a dance floor "Uh, you wanna…?"

The moment she realized that he wasn't goofing around, Frankie almost coyly took Darien's outstretched hand and allowed him to lead her over to where a handful of couples were already dancing. A tremor ran through her entire body as he suddenly pulled her in close, one hand pressing firmly into the small of her back and the other wrapping around hers as they started to move to the music. She laid her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes and losing herself to the feel of his body against hers and his smell, his touch, wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as possible.

When Frankie roused herself from her almost dreamlike state some time later, the music had changed tempo and Darien was now grinning down at her impishly, rolling his eyes in the direction of a group of diners who were openly staring at the attractive young couple. Leaning in close to whisper, his breath hot against the side of her face. "I think we've got ourselves an audience."

"Well, maybe we should give them something to really stare at, huh?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"My pleasure, ma'am," he mumbled as he dipped his head down a little more so that his lips could meet Frankie's. By the time they drew back from each other, their surroundings and their audience had become an irrelevance. Darien pushed a strand of hair from her face, letting the back of his hand trail over her cheek.

"Let's get the check and get out of here."

* * *

They drove back to their motel almost in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Darien was determined not to let either of them rush into anything, for reasons that he couldn't tell Frankie - and he really didn't want to have to lie to her if he could help it.

It was bound to get complicated, like just about everything else in his life over the last couple of years.. Sure there had been a few women since Casey O'Claire, though not many and some casual sex, but not much, but just lately he'd virtually ruled himself out of forming any kind of lasting or meaningful relationship. An ordinary life for someone who was classified as top secret and carrying 17 million dollars worth of bio-synthetic technology around in his head seemed like an impossible dream.

Once they were back in their room Frankie headed straight for the shower, leaving Darien to kick off his boots and lay back on the bed, grabbing the TV remote and scanning the cable channels for something decent to watch. He needed a distraction to take his mind off of Frankie…in the shower, imagining the water flowing down through her long dark main of hair and over her slender body with those pert little…

"Aw crap."

Quickly shifting position and grabbed for a pillow to place across his groin to conceal the evidence of his rising desire, silently praying that Frankie wouldn't come back before he could exert a little…control. After a few minutes of this he decided he needed to go outside for some air, rising from the bed quickly and that's when the vertigo hit, taking Darien to his knees as the room rotated violently around him.

"Whoa!" Was all he managed before another wave of dizziness and nausea sent him crashing the rest of the way to the floor, his head impacting with the edge of the nightstand knocking him out cold.

And that's how Frankie found him when she walked back into the room 10 minutes later.

* * *

Something cool and really, really nice was touching his forehead and a voice was calling to him, its tone gentle and vaguely familiar. Darien was trying his best to crawl upwards out of the foggy realms of unconsciousness but it wasn't easy, even though the woman's voice was saying his name again and he wanted to do it for her.

Frankie knelt on the floor with Darien's head resting in her lap and ran the dampened cloth across his face, dabbing carefully at the nasty gash on his right temple. He stirred and mumbled, but still didn't open his eyes.

"Come on baby, come back to me," she urged and was rewarded, finally, with a low groan just before those brown eyes blinked open.

"Claire?" He rasped, trying to focus on the figure huddled over him.

"Okay Fawkes, you're so gonna have to explain the _Claire_ bit to me later," Frankie grunted as she struggled to pull Darien into a sitting position, propping him up so that his back rested against the side of the bed. The cut above his eye was already starting to swell dramatically, and Darien raised trembling fingers to tentatively to probe at the sore and pulsating mass that was his head.

"Wha…what happened?" he slurred.

Frankie gently batted his hand away and laid the cool compress over his forehead.

"Well angel, you either passed out, or else it's the best scam anyone's ever pulled to avoid sleeping with me."

Darien started to laugh until another violent spasm had him lurching forward and practically throwing himself into the bathroom, just in time for his entire evening meal to make a spectacular re-appearance.

With a final '_Bleaaagh" _he rolled away from the toilet bowl and stared pathetically up at Frankie, who now stood in the doorway watching him anxiously.

"Maybe we should call a doctor …" she started, as Darien began to haul himself upright using the wash basin, a hand held to his badly cramping stomach.

He shook his head emphatically as he stumbled his way past her, pitching face down onto the bed. "No doctor. Must've had some bad lobster or somethin'. Just need sleep. Be okay in the mornin'…" His words trailed off into an incomprehensible mumble as his eyes drooped shut, practically as soon as his head touched the pillows. Frankie wasn't at all convinced by his assurance though, intuition telling her there was something going on here that he wasn't telling.

She gave Darien a minute or two to settle before easing onto the bed beside him, and he shifted and turned towards her, his arm looping around her waist as his long lean body practically draped itself over hers. His head settled on her chest, and he gave a deep contented sigh from somewhere deep in his sleep as Frankie's fingers began to comb gently through the soft strands of his hair.

* * *

Frankie awoke to find sunlight filtering in through a narrow gap in the curtains, and the warm body she'd been comfortably entangled with for most of the night…gone. 

She sat up with a start and quickly scanned the room before her eyes darted warily to the half-opened bathroom door; some part of her convinced that Darien was in there, sprawled unconscious …or worse…on the tiled floor. Perhaps he'd even called out for help and she'd slept right on through, oblivious to his suffering just a few feet away. With that and other panicked thought running through her mind she pushed back the covers ready to go check, when the door to their room opened and Darien entered arms laden with a large paper bag, a wide grin on his face when he saw her.

"Mornin'."

He'd obviously been up and about long enough to shower and dress, and apart from the angry bruising over his eye he didn't seem to be suffering any after-effects from the episode of the night before. Frankie didn't know whether to throw her arms around his neck in relief, or to pound his head for scaring her like that. She settled instead for returning his smile thinly as she settled herself back onto the bed, watching as Darien began to unload the contents of the bag.

"Thought you might appreciate breakfast in bed," he advised too casually as far as she was concerned. "Got us some coffee and some great pastries. Couldn't remember what you liked so I just got a selection…"

That was it, she'd had enough. "What the hell's going on Darien?" She asked sharply, swatting away the Styrofoam coffee cup he tentatively held out for her.

His face was the picture of injured innocence, using those brown eyes of his to startling effect.. "Nothin's going on baby. I just had a couple of errands to run and didn't see the point in waking you." A mischievous smile spread slowly over his face as he dropped down onto the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing over the curve of her breasts beneath the small white tee shirt that doubled as her nightwear. " Ya know, I forgot how cute you look when you're asleep."

Fighting not to over react to his laid-back attitude, Frankie slapped his hand away. "Cut the crap Fawkes. Are you going to tell me what that was last night?"

Unable to meet her intense and questioning gaze at that precise moment, Darien stared briefly into the middle distance. "It was nothin'," he tried cautiously. "Just some bad seafood I guess. I'm good now, honest." Making a little sign of the cross over his heart for good measure

"You know for a thief you always were a terrible liar."

"Ex thief," he countered glibly, earning himself an exasperated. look from her that she could have borrowed straight from his Keeper.

"Has it got anything to do with that scar on the back of your head?" Frankie asked suddenly, and was rewarded by a look of stunned shock from Darien whose hand shot almost protectively to his neck .

"How…how'd you know about….?" he gulped out the question.

Frankie sidled up to him, her earlier crankiness just a front for the concern she felt. "You always did like to be stroked." Her hand reached out to cup his chin gently.

"And I've just spent practically the entire night with your face buried in my chest. - not that I'm complaining." Her tone was softer now. ""Are you sick, baby?"

Darien took a deep breath, knowing he needed to tell her something. ""I…I had some surgery," he stuttered out, raising a calming hand quickly to allay the look of alarm on her lovely face "But it's not what you think. Let's just say it was my 'get out of jail free card' and leave at that, huh."

_Surgery! _What kind of sick bastard would force someone, particularly someone like Darien, to make that sort of deal? If she was going to get him to open up to her and tell her more she knew that she'd need to probe carefully.

"Oh I get it," she said in attempt to alleviate some of the tension. "It's one of those '_you would tell me but then you'd have to kill me' _things_."_

"It's no freakin' joke." Darien snapped as he pulled away from her suddenly, moving to stand a few feet away from the bed to where he could brood more effectively. "What the hell does it matter. It's done okay."

"Of course it matters if it's making you sick. And why are you angry with me?" She couldn't stop her own voice rising to counter the sharpness in his tone.

Another long suffering sigh. "For crying out loud, I'm not angry with you and I'm _not_ sick. There's been a lot happening lately, and I guess I'm just a little tired. Nothing that my Keep…my doctor can't fix with a vitamin shot or somethin'."

Okay, maybe he hadn't meant to say that. He realized immediately that there was no way Frankie would let it drop now that he'd stupidly revealed he was in the care of some 'doctor' - and she sure didn't disappoint.

"You're seeing a doctor?" Her barely whispered words were a stark contrast from the raised voices of a few minutes before. Darien sank down wearily onto the edge of the bed running a hand across his face and then through his hair, and after a second or two he felt Frankie ease in beside him.

"Frankie, I really don't want to lie to you, and that's what I'd have to do if you don't let it drop, 'kay?" Darien looked to her for some form of understanding before continuing. "If I told you anything about my life now…well, let's just say it could get you into a whole lot of trouble."

He was just beginning to think that maybe she wasn't going to respond, when she broke the silence "Alright, I'll let it go…for now," she stated finally, earning a tiny nod of relief from him. "But," she added quickly, before he had the chance to assume she'd drawn a line under it completely, "I want you to promise me that you'll see that doctor of yours first thing tomorrow and tell him…"

"Her," Darien cut in helpfully.

"Her," Frankie corrected, "about last night."

"Ya know, you're a lot bossier than I remember."

"Darien!" The scolding tone in her voice didn't match the look of genuine concern in her eyes.

"Okay, I promise, alright" he responded with a suitably disarming grin, knowing that he could at least honor part of the deal, as he was due to report to his Keeper in the morning for a routine poking and prodding session. Though whether he actually decided to tell Claire about how generally crappy he'd been feeling of late…well, the jury was still out on that one, particularly as that little revelation would more than likely land him an overnighter in Lab 3, along with more of the loathsome tests, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs - at least for the moment.

"Fawkes, are you listening to me?" Frankie's hard elbow connected painfully with his mid section, pulling his focus back to the here and now. "I said that I'll find some other way to get to the disk if you're not feeling well enough…"

"Nuh, uh. I wanna do this for you," he stated insistently. "'Sides," he pulled Frankie to her feet and tugged her over to the window, "I've already figured my way onto your old homestead without spooking the kin." Grinning now he motioned towards the small blue transit van parked outside, the garish cartoon character logo emblazoned on the side announcing that it belonged to: 'The Rubber Ducky Pool Cleaning Service'..

Frankie stared in amazement. When Darien had said he'd had a couple of errands to run earlier, she'd never considered for a moment that he'd been out making preparations. She turned back to tell him just that, but instead burst into a fit of giggles when she saw that he was now proudly wearing a blue baseball cap adorned with the 'Rubber Ducky' logo.

"The Pool Man is practically invisible," he stated with an ironic smile, "which is exactly what I need to be if I'm gonna pull this off during broad daylight."

"But where'd it all come from?" she asked incredulously, still giggling.

"Oh, just something I spotted when we did our little drive past yesterday. Looked up the company address in the 'yellow pages' and then took myself along to their depot this morning and…uh… 'loaned' some of their gear. I figured that as Sunday is probably a slow day in the pool cleaning biz, we should be able to get this little lot back to them before they even realize it's missing.

She just stared at him in a mix of awe and amusement for another few minutes, before coming to a decision of her own.

"Okay, if you're still willing to go through with this…for me, then I'll let you do it on one condition." Without warning Frankie spun Darien around and with a hard shove pushed him backwards onto the bed, straddling him before he even had a chance to protest - not that he would have - he actually liked his current prone position just fine. "And the condition is that we finish what we probably would have started last night…if you hadn't taken a dive."

Man, that was so okay with him!

Frankie leaned in for a deep lingering kiss, eliciting a pathetic little moan from Darien as she pulled away abruptly, leaving him dazed and aching for more. Then her fingers began to slowly trace across the buttons on his jeans, trailing upwards across his chest, over his mouth and nose and then brushing along the edge of the baseball cap, a playful little smile on her face the entire time.

"Let's keep the hat," she breathed. "There's something kinda sexy about a man in uniform."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The little blue van was waved through the ornate iron gates with no more than a cursory nod of acknowledgement from the bored looking security guard, and then drove down the long meandering driveway to the house itself.

The Casati residence was a palatial two-story Mediterranean style mansion, spread across several acres of beautifully landscaped grounds, with breathtaking views of the ocean. From what Frankie had told him, the layout of the main house was pretty much as it had been when Darien had been a regular visitor there all those years back. There had been some renovation in that time and a pool house had been added, but apart from that everything was more or less the same. And, more importantly, Dominic's study was still on the ground floor to the rear of the property.

The place seemed deserted, in fact, the only person Darien had encountered in all the time he'd been standing by the pool, idling skimming the long net back and forth across the rippling water, had been an elderly Hispanic gardener and the only noise came from the gentle trickle of water from the fountain at the edge of the pool.

His current vantage point afforded him an unobstructed view across the paved terrace, leading to the double glass doors and directly into Dominic Casati's study. Though the objective of any B&E job was to get in and out fast, the increased risk of trying to pull something like this off during the daylight hours made Darien err on the side of caution and bide his time before making his move. The last thing he needed was to bring unwanted attention from a member of the Casati household - and the thought of maybe even running into big bad Dom himself sent a nervous tremor down Darien's spine.

Of course, he could have avoided all of this subterfuge completely if he'd chosen to use the Quicksilver. Then it would just have been a case of getting his invisible self in and out of the house without the need of a disguise, but that would have been too easy. Darien's pride and that small part of him that still hankered after his old life as a thief, balked at the idea of doing this any way but the good old-fashioned B&E way. Besides, not using the QS alleviated a little of the guilt he felt for doing this at all, knowing how disappointed Bobby and Claire would be if they knew, even if his reasons for doing it were more than justified as far as he was concerned. As for the Fat Man finding out, and what he would do to Darien if he did find out…well, that one just didn't bear dwelling on for any great length of time.

Finally deciding it was now or never, he laid the net on the ground and took a moment to do another scan of the immediate area wanting to be sure he didn't have an unwelcome audience. Satisfied, he made his way across the paved terrace towards the house and was reaching into the back pocket of his shorts for the small leather case containing his lock picks, when a female voice called out from somewhere behind him…close.

"Where's Brad?"

He spun on his heels almost stumbling, and found himself staring at an absolute knockout; all bleached blond hair, long tanned body, and surgically enhanced breasts straining to break free from the little triangles of crimson material laughably called a bikini. A flowered sarong with some of the same colors as the top was wrapped around her slender hips.

"Uh, beg pardon?" Darien's heart rate was struggling to recover from the sudden shock of having someone sneak up behind him like that.

Blondie smiled at him brightly from under the layers of perfectly teased hair, motioning towards the pool. "Brad? Our regular pool guy?"

The penny dropped. "Oh, uh, yeah. Brad's come down with stomach flu or somethin'….nasty." Darien pulled a face for effect.

"Well, who's complaining. You're kinda cute," Blondie complimented, and Darien realized with a shock that she was checking him out, suddenly very conscious of the tight fitting red tee-shirt and the blue shorts he'd had to don as his 'uniform'.

The young woman gracefully lowered herself onto one of the sun loungers scattered poolside, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the flimsy material of her sarong had fallen back to reveal a long shapely leg. Darien gulped and ran a hand across his brow to clear the beads of sweat.

"He's really an actor you know?"

"Uh, who?"

"Brad, silly," she giggled, wrinkling her delicate little nose. "He's always saying that this is just temporary for him until he gets that big break. What about you?" She inclined her head, her eyes running over him again appreciatively. "Actor…model?"

"Nah. I'm a secret agent," he advised conversationally. "Just out to make some extra cash between top secret assignments, that kinda stuff."

Blondie giggled again. "So, what do we call you?"

_Yeah, now that's a good question. _

"Uh, Donald," he managed to stutter out the first name that leapt into his head..

"Well I'm Summer," she announced cheerfully, dipping her toes into the warm waters of the pool. "My fiancé Dominic owns this place."

_Oh, that's just great. _

"Well it's lovely." Darien was rooted to the spot halfway between the pool and the house, expecting Dom to emerge any minute now to discover his girlfriend hitting on the vaguely familiar looking pool guy. "Is he…uh…around?"

Much to his relief Summer shook her head. "He's had to go out on some business or other. But he'll be back any time to pick me up, cause we're supposed to be meeting friends for lunch." She glanced at her gold wristwatch. "Cripes, I need to get dressed. Dominic doesn't like to be kept waiting…he's not very patient."

"Yeah, I bet."

Summer got to her feet in one elegant movement, hands running down over her body to smooth the non-existent creases from the material covering her sensational lower half. "Well it was nice meeting you, Donald. Will I be seeing you again?"

" I doubt it Summer. Ole Brad'll be back on the job before you can say '_Rubber Ducky'_, and I'll probably be off saving the world or something," he advised with what he hoped was just the right amount of sincerity. "Hey, but it's been a real pleasure."

She eyed him with amusement…and something else…for a long moment. "Well, if the secret agent thing doesn't work out, maybe I could put a call into your boss and get you permanently assigned to us, huh?"

All Darien could think to do was nod. "Wouldn't that be nice!"

"Sure would," she exclaimed, throwing him another dazzling smile and blowing him a kiss as she turned on her heels. "Catch ya later, cutie."

Darien gave Summer a little half wave as she disappeared around the side of the house, and then released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

_Crap_ and double crap.

At least now he knew that Dominic was off the premises though due back any time according the Summer, so he had to get moving. He'd left a very nervous Frankie back at the motel, with a promise that he'd call the minute he was clear. By now she'd probably be climbing the walls with worry.

Knowing that he couldn't afford to waste any more time, Darien made straight for the door leading to Dominic's study. The standard piece of crap lock yielded with the minimum amount of coercion, and in just under a minute he had the door open and was inside the house…finally.

It never ceased to amaze that the rich folk of this world would spend literally millions on their state-of-the-art security systems, which they'd then switch off during daytime when they assumed all good burglars were taking a break, leaving their valuables at the mercy of people…well, like him actually.

He did a cursory check of the study before heading straight for the large modern light wood desk, which dominated the room. The silver picture frame was exactly where Frankie had said it would be and Darien wasted no time in removing the back of the frame, and there in between a piece of light card and the photograph of Dominic Casati with his mother, was the metallic disk Pocketing his prize, he carefully replaced the photograph and returned the frame to its place on the desk.

Even though common sense told him to go while the going was still good, Darien couldn't resist having a little poke around the study, just for the sheer hell of it. Running his hands over the delicate artwork and wondering which of the contemporary paintings concealed the wall safe. Then he spotted the ornately carved wooden box on the desk, which he suspected contained some of the expensive Cuban cigars that Dominic had always favored. Allowing curiosity to get the better of him, he picked up the box, releasing the little gold catch and opened the lid to take a peak inside, savoring the distinctive aroma. And that's exactly when a sudden intense pain lanced through his head, pitching him across the desk, the cigar box flying out of his hands to land on the floor with a thud as most of its prized contents spilled out.

Darien had no choice but to stay right where he was until the pain had dulled to merely an aching throb, and the wave of nausea that had come in its wake subsided. Breathing heavily he managed to push himself upright and on shaking legs reached down to scoop the cigars haphazardly back into their container, which he then placed back on the desk. Wiping the back of his hand over his face to clear the cold sweat that had suddenly formed, he gave the room one final check and when he was as satisfied as he could be that everything was in place, left the same way he'd entered.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Monday morning**

"Whoa, Fawkes, slow down there buddy boy."

Already halfway along the dimly lit basement hallway leading to the Keep, Darien stopped and glanced over his shoulder at the sound of his partner's voice, groaning inwardly at the lecture he knew for sure was coming.

"Hey, Hobbesy, wazzup?" he responded much too casually for the older man's liking, standing there with hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans and looking like he hadn't a care in the world.

Hobbes jogged the last few steps to catch up and then laid a hand on his arm, scowling. Boy was he ever pissed.

"Whatdya mean, _wazzup_? Where the hell have you been all freakin' weekend?

Darien shrugged dismissively and then grinned, careful though to keep his face slightly raised and in profile so that Bobby wouldn't see the bruising. "Sorry mom, guess I forgot that I need to call home every hour on the hour. 'Sides, if you wanted to know exactly where I was for part of it, all you had to do is ask Tweedledum and Tweedledee."

"Yeah, and while we're on the subject - you keep pulling the ole disappearing routine on your protection team, and before too long buddy boy the Fish is gonna have you chained to 'em. He's seriously pissed that you've been incommunicado for the last 48 hours as it is.."

"Give me a freakin' break. It was _the weekend_ Hobbes. Ya know, free time, no work, lots of play," " he snapped back bitterly.. Deciding there and then that he'd had enough lecturing for one day, Darien feigned a move to his left then quickly dodged the other way in an attempt to get around his partner, but Hobbes had already anticipated the move and side-stepped to effectively block his path. Even with his obvious height advantage, Darien knew better than to try to force his way past his smaller, stockier friend, so settled for a long-suffering sigh instead and to make a further point smacked the wall in frustration.

Despite his partner's show of petulance Hobbes was a long way from finished, standing his ground with hands on hips and one eyebrow arched suspiciously. "What sort of _play_?" he persisted . "For you buddy boy, all 'play' needs to be authorized. You know the Fat Man will hang you by the family jewels if you've done the dirty deed with that little honey from the bar… whatsername?"

"Francesca…Cassidy," Darien offered helpfully. "And…oh yeah… while we're on the subject…mind you own business. Even I'm entitled to at least one…date… per century."

"As long as that's all it was…a date? I did some checking last night, and the bar owner told me little Frankie didn't show for any of her shifts over the weekend. Now what do you suppose happened to her? "

Making no effort at all to mask his rising irritation now, Darien's second attempt to get past his partner met with more success - though mainly because Hobbes didn't make much of an effort to stop him this time. He was already regretting his heavy handed tactics, realizing that he may have pushed that little bit too far, as always.

Tempers and relationships had been stretched to breaking point recently as it was, and it didn't help any that the Fat Man kept making veiled threats to Bobby about the future of his partnership with Fawkes, even hinting that tougher measures were being considered to rein in their valuable 'receptacle' if Hobbes couldn't curb his persistently defiant behavior. Knowing that the younger man would seriously freak if he even had a hint of these plans, Bobby had actually been the one to suggest the night out at the bar on Friday to try and alleviate some of the mounting tension - and it had worked too. They'd all had a really good night and Fawkesy had even met up with his old girlfriend.

Now that he'd gotten past Hobbes, instead of continuing on his way towards the metal door of the Keep Darien turned back to his friend, glancing down at his feet before hesitantly meeting the older man's gaze. He'd already dropped the 'attitude'.

"Hey, listen Bobby. Frankie won't be around for that long,. she's only here now 'cause her mom's real sick.. I mean, does ole Charlie even have to know about her, huh? By the time you run a check and get the results she'll probably be long gone."

"I dunno Fawkes," Hobbes shook his head uncertainly.. "You know how paranoid everyone's been lately. It's my ass on the line if anything happens to you."

Darien gave Hobbes a little play punch to the shoulder. "Aw c'mon partner, nothing's gonna happen to me. She's an old friend. Man, it's just nice to have someone to talk to who knew me before…this." His hand gestured loosely to the back of his head.

"Fawkes tell me you didn't…." Hobbes looked horrified that his partner may have disclosed top secret gland information to a….civilian!

"Of course not, give me some credit for God sake," came the terse response. Then steadying his tone - he needed Bobby on his side. "It's great that she doesn't know about… ya know? I'm just plain ole Darien to her, not some big invisible freak."

Hobbes visibly relaxed and nodded sympathetically, then smiled slightly at the relieved expression on the younger man's face.

"I'm not promising anything okay? I'll have to run a routine check on her but maybe it doesn't have to go anywhere near the Fish's desk…unless I find out she's a deranged serial killer or somethin'."

A grinning Darien low-fived his partner. "I won't forget this. I owe you, buddy."

"Yeah, yeah," the older man said good-naturedly. "For this and all the other times I covered your sorry ass Inviso-Boy."

Just then the door to the Keep swooshed open and Claire appeared, staring meaningfully at her watch, a booted foot tapping impatiently.

Darien sauntered towards her, raising his hand in a goodbye salute "Gotta go Hobbesy, can't keep Her Royal Testiness waiting any longer."

* * *

"Ow…ow…ow…OW! For crying out loud that _really _hurts." Darien shifted irritably on the exam chair, trying to prize his arm out of his Keeper's vice-like grip. "Are you gonna leave any in there for me!"

She tutted and gave him a reprimanding scowl, before carefully withdrawing the syringe from the bulging vein on Darien's left forearm and transferring his blood sample into a glass test tube, which she then handed across to Dr. Wesley Carter, the newest addition to the I-Man medical team The tall, reed thin man stood the other side of the chair, manning the rolling surgical trolley and assisting with Darien's current torture session.

Claire wasn't happy with her Kept this morning, and the fact that he was being deliberately vague about the cut and bruising above his eye only added to her growing irritation.

"Don't be such a cry baby," she scolded in her best British school ma'am accent as she pressed a cotton ball a little too firmly to the puncture wound, eliciting another hiss and a scowl from Darien.

Before Friday night in the bar Claire hadn't even set eyes on him in over two weeks. She'd been in Washington with Charles Borden, giving a detailed debriefing to a covert Presidential committee in the wake of the DoD's abortive attempt to rest control of the I-man Project from The Agency. In her absence, Darien's day to day care had been left in the more than capable hands of Dr. Carter, but she'd been itching to get back to San Diego so that she could get Darien into the Lab for a thorough examination, particularly as recent tests had shown some strange anomalies in his bloodstream.

But, as usual he was being far from co-operative.

"It's for your own good Darien, as I keep trying to tell you," she continued, sharing an exasperated glance with her medical colleague who smiled sympathetically back at her. "We need to keep a check on your health, and I can't do that if you won't let me take some little samples of blood."

"Little, hah!" Darien retorted acidly, staring for emphasis at the line of tubes racked up beside him, all containing measures of his most vital bodily fluid. "Buffy the Vampire's got nothing on you sister."

"For your information, Buffy is a slayer not a vampire," Carter corrected helpfully, earning himself vacant stares from both Darien and Claire.

Focusing her attention back to her Kept, Claire pushed a lock of long golden blonde hair from her face and continued to glare. " I can't believe that a grown man can make such a fuss over some teeny, tiny needles."

"It's not the 'teeny, tiny needles' I object to," he responded, doing his best imitation of her clipped British accent. "It's the teeny tiny holes they keep leaving all over my body."

Claire tutted again as she collected the rack of test tubes and disappeared around the glass divider, and Darien could hear her moving about on the other side of the lab. When Carter backed off as well Darien took this to mean that this current bout of blood taking was at an end, so decided to make a break for it. Quickly grabbing his discarded shirt and tugging it on over his head he bolted for the door, muttering churlishly, "Enough already. I'm done with being a human pin cushion for today."

And he nearly made it too, was just a couple of strides away from the metal door of the Keep when it slid open literally as his hand was hovering over the keypad, .his one and only escape route suddenly blocked by a large and imposing mass. Darien stopped dead in his tracks, swallowing hard.

_Busted._

"And just where do you think you're going in such a rush?" The Official demanded gruffly. "Is there an emergency somewhere that I'm unaware of, some place else you need to be that's more important than right here?"

"Uh, well, now that you mention it…"

"Darien is being a pain in the bum as usual sir," Claire interrupted tartly from somewhere behind him.

"Don't push your luck kid." The Fat Man's tone demanded attention and Darien did his best to look suitably repentant.. "Your protection team have briefed me on your antics at the weekend, so unless you want a spell in confinement you will do exactly what your Keeper tells you to do. And after she's finished, I want you in my office and I expect a full account of your whereabouts for the past 2 days. Am I making myself clear?"

Darien considered this for a long moment, weighing his options and whether he could get away with some blatant insubordination, or maybe he could even trigger the Quicksilver and squeeze himself past the huge bulk still jammed in the doorway. Instead he settled for shuffling his feet and mumbling something inaudible..

"What was that Agent Fawkes?" Borden demanded.

"Yes sir, perfectly clear,." he responded grudgingly. Knowing The Official well enough now to realize that he wouldn't hesitate to carry out the threat, by force if necessary. It took real effort though to stop from reacting to the look of smug satisfaction on Claire's face as he dragged himself back sulkily to the exam chair, dropping down with a heavy dramatic sigh.

The Official shot Darien another warning glare for good measure, before turning his full attention to Claire.

"Doctor, how much longer is Fawkes going to be needed down here? You also promised me an update on his current health status. "

"Well sir, I still have a number of tests to run." To add weight to this comment she glanced accusingly in Darien's direction, but he looked completely disinterested. "But I think we should consider taking him off active duty for a few days for some sustained monitoring."

"_What_!" Both Darien and Borden echoed at the same time. Darien was back on his feet now, advancing towards his Keeper.

"Aw, c'mon Keepie, don't do this to me," he whined desperately.

"Darien, as your doctor I have a duty to put your health above all other considerations."

Her tone had softened considerably, knowing how much he hated confinement of any sort.

"But I'm fine," he persisted, looking to his Keeper and even to Carter for some kind of support.

"How have you been feeling, generally?" Claire asked, suddenly deciding that now was as good as time as any to shine a small pen light into his eyes..

Darien ran a hand over his neck and then blatantly lied. "Uh, super…no problems."

"Hmmm, well I'm still concerned about the results from your last batch of blood work," she responded absently, tipping his head back so that she could inspect the pupil of the other eye now.

"Then your Keeper's word is final," Borden advised grudgingly. "Believe me Fawkes, no one wants you out in the field more than I do. Each day you're out of action will end up costing this agency thousands of dollars of taxpayers money. Doctor, I expect a full report on my desk ASAP."

"You're all heart Charlie," Darien muttered sarcastically, and was rewarded with a parting chuckle from the Fat Man as he turned and left the Keep, the door hissing shut behind him.

Sitting back down now, defeated, Darien ran a hand across his face. Peaking out warily from between his fingers a second or two later as he heard the familiar snap of rubber surgical gloves. With a look of eager anticipation, Claire held up a length of rubber hosing attached to a large funnel.

"Okay Gland Boy, strip."

"Aw crap."

* * *

Dominic Casati sensed that something was wrong the minute he walked into his study. At first glance nothing seemed out of the ordinary or out of place, it was just his gut instinct. No one would usually dare come in here without his approval, not even Summer, and God help the hapless maid who didn't put everything back just so after the study had been cleaned.

He stared around him trying to pin down exactly what was wrong and that was when he noticed it. His wooden cigar box usually dead center on the desk, was now perched perilously close to the edge as if it had been placed there by someone in a hurry. Even worse, his finest imported Cuban cigars stored meticulously inside, looked as if they had been through a grinder. He muttered a bitter curse.

Just as he was about to reach for the intercom on his desk to bawl out anyone who had the misfortune to be on the other end, he noticed that the picture of him and his mother had also been moved and on closer inspection he could see that the back of the frame had been opened..

Casati's naturally suspicious nature was piqued now and he spun his chair a full circle to gaze around the room, stopping as his eyes fixed on a point in the top right hand corner, where a piece of shapeless modern sculpture hung high up on the wall. Personally he detested it, but it was a perfect cover for the security camera hidden within its hollow interior.

With the means to track down the culprit at his disposal, a sadistic grin of anticipation spreading across his face as he pressed down on the intercom, barking an order for his head of security to report to him immediately.

* * *

"That's it. Stop there…and zoom in so we can get a good look at the sonofabitch."

Casati stared at the monitor again, hardly believing what…or who he was seeing. It had been a very long time, but the tall trespasser on screen was unmistakable. Never forgetting a face or a name is what had kept him ahead of the game for so long.

"Clever girl, Francesca," Casati stated with the hint of a smile touching his handsome features. He'd always known that she'd made copies of his personal files as some form of protection, if it hadn't been for this added piece of betrayal he might very well have called off the hunt for her months ago.. But for all this time, he'd assumed she either had them with her or they were locked away somewhere. Never in a million years did he consider that Frankie had hidden them right under his nose, in the very last place he would look.

He also silently applauded her ingenuity in recruiting her cat burglar ex-boyfriend to come and retrieve them for her. But then from what he could remember, Darien Fawkes wouldn't have taken much convincing where Francesca was concerned.

He studied Darien's freeze framed image for another minute or two before snatching up his cell phone and pressing speed dial, snapping an order at the voice on the other end as soon as they had picked up.

"Get me everything you can on Darien Fawkes…that's F.A.W.K.E.S."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

By early afternoon the worst of the days tests were over, and Darien lay back on the exam chair idly leafing through a dog eared magazine for about the zillionth time, while Claire intently studied another sample under her microscope, humming contentedly to herself in her own little version of _scienteez_ heaven.

When his cell phone buzzed Darien eagerly reached into his jacket pocket to grab it, keen for a conversation with just about anyone that didn't focus on one or other of his bodily functions. Smiling broadly when he flipped it open and saw the name of the caller.

"Hey Frankie."

Claire glanced up for a moment, before turning away again to give him what privacy she could, wondering at the last time she'd actually seen him so visibly smitten. Kate Easton maybe, but definitely not to this extent; Allianora, well that had just been outright lust at first sight. She'd never met Casey O'Claire, but from what Bobby had told her of the woman she had none of the natural warmth or beauty of the one they'd met briefly a few nights before in the bar.

And then Darien was calling across to her. "Keepie, are we done here?"

Claire considered it for a moment and then nodded. "But don't forget that The Official wants to see you," she reminded him with a sympathetic smile.

He mumbled something into the cell and then snapped it shut. A moment later he was up and out of the chair and walking towards his Keeper, with that charming boyish smile in place and the calculating soulful stare he always gave her when he wanted a favor.

"Uh…Claire. Can we put off the rest of the tests, just for a couple of days?" he asked hesitantly. "My friend…Frankie…ya know from the bar? Well she's gonna be leaving , and I'd sort of like to spend some time with her."

Claire smiled warmly at her Kept, deciding that he deserved a little leeway. He'd been through so much recently after all. "Why not. Besides it'll do you the world of good to have someone to look at who's prettier than Bobby. She seemed really nice by the way."

He snorted in amusement. "Glad you feel that way. Bobby seems to think she's out to poison me or something."

The loud crash of metal on stone startled them both, and Darien and Claire turned as one to the far corner of the Keep where Wesley Carter mouthed a 'sorry' as he knelt down to retrieve the metal surgical tray he'd just dropped, along with the items now strewn across the floor.

"But I want you to come straight back if you start to feel unwell," Claire continued.

Darien nodded.

"And I'll expect you to report here bright and early on Wednesday to finish these tests, and 'bright and early' means before noon to most normal people."

He nodded again as he backed towards the door slowly at first, then speeding up before she had a chance to change her mind. "Scouts honor."

Claire spun on her heels just about to call after Darien and remind him not to forget to take his vitamin supplements, but by then the door of the Keep had slid shut behind him and he was gone. Smiling and shaking her head indulgently she turned just as the lab phone started to ring.. Carter picked up and listened intently, nodding before replacing the receiver..

"Claire. The Official would like to see you in his office."

* * *

"Let me get this straight." Borden removed his glasses and began wearily massaging the bridge of his nose. "Fawkes is _involved_ with someone called _Frank_?" He raised an eyebrow accusingly in Claire's direction "Have you been monitoring his hormone levels properly?" 

Claire put a hand to her mouth to suppress a bout of giggles, his scowl of disapproval only making it worse as far as she was concerned.

"No Chief. I mean yeah…Fawkesy is seeing someone called _Frankie,_ but she's a she…not a he." Bobby stammered, a glint of amusement in his dark brown eyes also.

Darien was going to kill him. Hobbes had meant to keep his word and not process Frankie's security check for a day or so, but a bit of free time on his hands while his partner was tied up with his Keeper and curiosity had just got the better of him. Then all of a sudden The Official had gotten wind of it and he'd been summoned here with Claire to explain.

Eberts was sat by the side of the boss man's desk, frantically tapping the keyboard of a laptop computer and looking decidedly sheepish. Bobby was willing to bet that the little weasel had something to do with this. In all probability he'd been monitoring their computer access again and some sort of alert had gone out the minute Hobbes had called up Darien's highly-classified security file. So, every chance he got he glowered across at the young assistant, vowing to get even at some point.

"That's out of the question," the Fat Man stated gruffly. "He's perfectly aware that any personal…uh…'relations' he has with a civilian could compromise the Project."

"And that's bloody ridiculous." Claire couldn't help but leap to her friend's defense. "He's a young man and he needs a release for his….tensions once in awhile. If you don't believe Darien deserves a life outside of all this, then we might as well go the whole hog and castrate him."

"What he deserves and what he gets are two separate matters," he snapped back at her churlishly. "And you'll have to find some other way to ease his 'tensions'. I can't have my 17 million dollar Invisible Man tomcatting all over town."

Claire released a loud exasperated breath that earned her a narrowing of eyes from Borden.

"Chief, couldn't we cut him some slack." Bobby decided that as the Fish looked thoroughly pissed off anyway he had nothing to lose by voicing his own opinion, at the very least he was willing to take some of the heat off Claire. "The kid's had a tough time lately with the whole DoD thing and then finding out the gland's a permanent fixture."

"And we're not just talking about a release of sexual tension either," Claire cut in. "For his own well being he should be allowed to form an emotional attachment outside of the Agency. We're playing with a delicate psyche here."

Borden stared at both of them for a long time and then suddenly to their surprise, he relaxed back in his chair and actually seemed to be mulling over their comments. "Beyond the obvious complications of letting him…fraternize…with a civilian, don't we still have his physical problems to contend with? The premature…" his words trailed away and he fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Well technically, premature… invisibility…shouldn't be a problem for Darien any more, as long as he uses one of the relaxation techniques that we've perfected together to inhibit the Quicksilver flow," Claire advised brightly.

Bobby looked mortified. "When you say…perfected _together_…I hope you don't mean what I think you mean Keepie?"

Claire studied him blankly, then suddenly realized what he was implying and burst out laughing. "Bobby, I'm his doctor for heavens sake!"

He wasn't altogether sure he liked the way her cheeks flushed slightly though.

"We've been studying forms of meditation and exercise based on Hindu Neo-tantric principles. He's gotten very good," she stated proudly.

Bobby's brow was currently creased into an unhappy frown. Something about the word '_tantric' _had his paranoia working overtime.

Borden stared from Claire to Bobby and then back again, his decision made. "Okay people. I want the young lady in question checked out thoroughly, is that clear? If the report come back clean then I _might_ consider it. But Fawkes needs to be aware that this Project has to remain classified - his safety is paramount."

They both nodded numbly, hardly believing that Borden was willing to backtrack on his previously hard-line stance over the issue of Darien being allowed a reasonably normal private life.

"Uh…um…Sir." Eberts interrupted. He'd stopped typing and was staring at the laptop screen nervously. "I…er…think we may have a slight problem."

"Well speak up Eberts, we don't have all day,." he barked but with none of his usual bluster.

"My search for information on a Francesca Cassidy, following on from Robert's own attempts, had drawn a blank. So I programmed the computer to scan through the names and profiles of all of Darien's known associates…past and present…and it's come up with this match."

He flipped the laptop around so that they could all view the screen, and there on an FBI 'Most Wanted' Page was a picture of one Francesca Marie Casati.

Wanted for Unlawful Flight to Avoid Confinement and as a Potential Witness to Murder.

D.O.B. March 7th, 1973. Place of Birth: San Diego, Ca. Height; 5'9" Weight: n/a. Build: Slim. Scars and Marks: None. Hair: Dark Brown. Eyes: Green: Complexion: White. Sex: Female. Nationality: American.

Caution: Francesca Marie Casati is being sought as a potential witness to the 2001 murder of Glenn Robert Coleman, and in connection with embezzlement and corruption charges.

Reward: The FBI is offering a reward of up to $100,000 for information leading directly to the location and apprehension of Francesca Marie Casati.

November 2001

Bobby let out a low whistle. "Our boy sure knows how to pick 'em."

Claire just gaped open-mouthed at the screen.

"What was that you said about castration!" The Official hissed mostly for Claire's benefit. "Where is the irresponsible punk now?"

"Well…um… he did mention something about going out…" Claire cowered down in her chair and waited for the expected explosion from her boss, and he didn't disappoint.

"OUT…out where? Haven't you people learned a damned thing . He's supposed to have security with him at all times."

"He did…does, Chief, well most of the time anyway," Bobby started cautiously. "But he's gotten too good for them now - superior field training even if I do say so myself, plus he's got the whole see-through thing going on. He keeps giving them the slip."

The Fat Man's face reddened dramatically until he resembled a volcano that was about to go Pyroclasmic. "Does anyone around here actually follow my direct orders?" Hobbes, Claire and Eberts all exchanged quick curious sideways glances, while. Borden continued to fume. "I want him back here in my office within the hour do you hear me?"

They all nodded.

"Eberts, put in a call to the FBI, .see if you can get some more Intel on this woman. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with. Hobbes…why are you still standing there….GET OUT THERE AND FIND FAWKES NOW."

* * *

'You've heard of the _Untouchables? _Well that term could have been invented for this guy."

Casati leaned back in his chair, shifting his gaze momentarily to the panoramic view of the ocean from his terrace, but not really taking the time to truly appreciate the sheer beauty because he was thoroughly pissed off. As far as he was concerned, there were no such words as 'no' or 'can't be done' in his universe, particularly when they came from the mouth of a dirty Fed on his payroll.

"That's impossible. Darien Fawkes should have a rap sheet a mile long. Now all of a sudden you're telling me you can't dig up _anything_ on him," he asked, doing his best to keep his temper from flaring out of control.

There was a pause, and then, "Well, it looks like he's got some sort of high-level protection now. It's almost as if the Darien Fawkes you knew ceased to exist after August 2000. That's when he went to work for the Agency."

Casati's rising frustration was fuelled by the thought that this idiot would never get to the point. "So what the hell is _The_ _Agency?"_

"Well, from what little I could find out, it's currently being funded by the Department of Fish and Game. And your boy Fawkes is well… classified."

There was a rustling of paper from the other end as the man scanned through a file.

"Yep, he's taken a giant leap from ex-con to top-secret government agent.. I could only bring up pretty basic Intel on him from our database without setting off some major security alerts. I've never seen anything like it. "Seem to remember that a mutual friend of ours…Johnny Books…had a run in with a Federal Agent named Fawkes about a year ago. Too much of a coincidence for it not to be the same guy."

Casati was smiling grimly now and it wasn't a pretty sight.. "So the two bit punk's a Fed, huh?"

"I've got something else that might interest you," the voice offered with a hint of eagerness.

"Well go on," Casati hissed impatiently.

"Your sister's file was sent to F&G this morning to a… Charles Borden. From what I can gather it has something to do with Francesca and one of his agents, no prize for guessing who though! It looks like someone has been a bad boy."

Suddenly Casati was sitting up ramrod straight in his chair, his entire demeanor changing from the simmering anger of a few moments before, to one of calculating pleasure.

"That's excellent," he stated coldly. "And when I get my hands on little Francesca and Darien Fawkes, I'm going to teach the pair of them a lesson they won't live long enough to regret."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Getting out of the Harding Building had been a cinch, as usual.

Bobby was nowhere in sight and the security team just never seemed to learn their lesson

where Darien was concerned. Assuming - wrongly - that he was cocooned safely down in The Keep for the rest of the day, they hadn't even bothered to post a guard outside the door. So all he needed to do to sneak out unnoticed was to go see-through and ride the elevator all the way to the top floor, exiting onto the roof via a fire door. From there he easily scaled a wall that led directly to the roof of the slightly taller neighboring building, then used that fire escape all the way back down to ground level.

He risked driving his own car out to Pacific Beach this time, with the full intention of spending just an hour or two with Frankie and then heading back before Hobbes and The Fish - or anyone else for that matter- had time to seriously freak. But Darien's resolve slipped away the moment Frankie opened the door of the motel room as he approached and he caught sight of her.

The news that she'd contacted Dominic and arranged a meeting for the next day didn't come as a surprise to him - he'd suspected as much from the anxious tone in her voice when she'd called earlier. But with a little more time he had hoped to convince Frankie not to take this potentially lethal route at all and to hand herself and the disk over to the Feds. At the very least he'd wanted to be at her side when she put in the call to her scumbag of a brother, but the waiting and uncertainty had finally taking their toll, prompting her actions

Now as Darien came awake in the early hours of the morning he felt Frankie stir restlessly beside him yet again, until his arm looped around her and she snuggled in against his body. For awhile he thought she'd fallen back to sleep, and was just heading back there himself when she jabbed him sharply in the ribs with an elbow..

"You awake?"

"Am now…ouch," he responded in a voice still husky from sleep.

Frankie raised herself slightly so that she could stare down at him, with eyes full of eager anticipation. "I want you to come with me."

"Go where, baby? It's the middle of the night." Idly rubbing an eye with the back of his hand.

"Once I've given Dominic the disk, I'm leaving - for good - and I want you to come with me Darien."

Using an elbow he pushed himself up out of the pillows so that he could see her a little better in the dim light. "Are you serious?"

"Never been more serious about anything in my entire life," she stated. "I don't think I could go without you." The heavy silence that followed was almost too much for Frankie to bear, and his response came just when she was beginning to think he might not answer at all, his tone tinged with regret.

"You know I can't ."

At those words she abruptly pulled away from him, reaching to switch on the bedside lamp, the hurt evident from her expression.

"At least explain to me _why_ you can't?"

He sighed heavily. "The…people…I work for, well, they just wouldn't let me walk away. They've got too much invested."

"Then we'll _run_." Frankie urged, with hands clamped either side of Darien's face now, making sure he stayed focused entirely on her and what she was offering. "Baby, we can go somewhere they'll never find us."

Darien couldn't help the short burst of cynical laughter, but the hurt it obviously caused was certainly not intended. Then Frankie was up fast, grabbing for her discarded clothing and was almost out the door before he managed to scramble across the bed and catch hold of her. She put up a half-hearted struggle before collapsing against him, and he could feel her tears hot against his bare chest. He held onto her, stroking her hair until the tremors subsided and then put a hand beneath her chin, gently tipping it so that he could stare down at the tear-stained face.

"I said I couldn't leave with you. But that doesn't mean I don't wanna _be_ with you, 'kay?" She sniffed and nodded as he tried to explain. "I've found out the hard way recently that it's safer for me right here, Frankie. My employers…and my friends… well, especially my friends, they look out for me, though Lord knows I don't always make it easy for 'em." He smiled wryly, and wondered if Bobby Hobbes was out scouring the streets for him right this minute. He wouldn't put it past the little tiger. "They could protect you too if you'd trust them." There was no harm in giving the legal route one last shot, anything had to be better than trusting Dominic. "And then maybe we could even figure a way to …ya know…stay together, if that's what you really wanted."

Frankie sniffed again and wiped the back of a hand across her nose, asking in a small voice. "Is that what you want?"

"I asked first," he teased.

"Asked what…exactly?" Her hand reached up to his face and Darien leaned into her touch..

"Not sure," he responded truthfully. "But if you're around we'd at least have the chance to find out."

"But what about the mess I'm in?"

He though about this for a moment. "Come back to bed. Then in the morning it's your call - If you decide to keep the appointment with Dom, then I'll be there too. If not, then I'll work some sorta deal with my boss." Darien sincerely hoped he had enough leverage to do what he was promising, and that once the Fat Man was finished tearing him limb from limb for going AWOL - again - he could be convinced to intervene in return for the information on the disk. Particularly when he realized he could potentially trade it back to the FBI…for a high price.

Darien pressed his lips against her forehead. "We'll work it out…somehow…trust me."

* * *

It was late morning before the couple finally emerged from their room, walking hand in hand across the lot to Darien's car. Despite feeling like crap again, Darien couldn't suppress the grin in Frankie's direction as he recalled exactly what they'd been up to into the wee small hours… and it had very little to do with sleep. 

He just had the key poised in the lock when a familiar voice from behind literally froze him in place.

"So this is another fine mess you've gotten yourself into, hotshot."

With a muttered curse he turned to slowly face Bobby Hobbes, who was standing, arms folded just a few feet away from them.

"Nice to see ya again, Frankie," Bobby called across pleasantly.

"Likewise." Frankie threw back, sharing an anxious look with Darien.

"I'm impressed, Bobby.." Darien tried a tight smile to mask his nervousness. "How'd you find us?"

"That's need to know, my friend."

"Oh, gimme a break, man." he erupted, then stared down at himself as a sudden horrible thought struck, "They've got me tagged!"

Bobby was shaking his head. "Not as far as I'm aware they don't. Tracking devise is in the hunk of junk," he gestured at the car.

At least that's what Eberts told him when he'd questioned the relative ease with which they'd located Darien. This time his location had been pinpointed within an hour or so of him going on the missing list, but Bobby had managed to convince everyone to hang back and just keep the couple under surveillance; let them have what would probably be their last night together. Now though, the security team were cranky after so many hours spent just sitting and waiting.

Hobbes gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and Darien turned to see two of the Agency suits approaching from the dark SUV.

"Bobby please, just hear me out. I know what it looks like," Darien tried desperately.

"Plenty of time for explanations when we're back at HQ, junior." Bobby jerked his head towards Golda's open passenger side door. "Now are you gonna come with me, or do they have to bring you the hard way?"

* * *

Darien spent most of the journey back to the Harding Building in a brooding, sullen silence, fielding all of Hobbes' best efforts to engage him or Frankie in any form of conversation. What was the point! When his partner was pissed at him like this, any attempt to justify his actions would only result in another sanctimonious sermon from the older man on everyone's favorite topic - his safety. Besides, Darien had a feeling The Fish was going to give him a monumental roasting anyway, most likely with some form of punishment thrown in for good measure. 

Alex Monroe was waiting for them as the van pulled into the Agency parking lot.

Darien was out of the van pulling Frankie with him before Hobbes had even shut off the engine, hoping to make a hasty break for the relative sanctuary of the Keep. But Monroe was there, holding out a hand to stop them dead in his tracks, eyeing the pair with a sort of cynical amusement.

"Well if it isn't Bonnie and Clyde."

"Out of the way Alex," Darien hissed.

"Oh no, not so fast. The Boss man wants you in his office pronto and your little girlfriend stashed somewhere safe for the time being. He's sent me to make sure you come along like a good little boy." She leaned in close to whisper the next words. "So don't even think of going see-through or I might have to kick your skinny butt."

Darien scowled.

"What's going on Monroe?" Hobbes locked the van and came round the side to join them.

"We've got visitors," she advised coolly. "The FBI are with the Chief, waiting to talk to Pretty Boy Fawkes and his gangster girlfriend."

Darien groaned, wiping a hand across his eyes. His plan to negotiate some sort of deal for Frankie and the disk - without the involvement of the FBI - had probably just gone up in smoke.

"Well thanks for nothing, _buddy." _Darien shot across at his partner as he grudgingly followed on Monroe's elegant heels, Frankie a few steps behind with the two suits trailing after them.

Masking the hurt he felt at that stinging comment, Hobbes sniped at his partner's retreating form. "Hey don't blame me, Gland for brains. This mess is all yours."

* * *

Frankie was separated from Darien literally the minute they stepped into the building, with him being hauled off by Hobbes and the scary woman with the abrasive manner, while she was escorted down to the basement level by the two suits to_…The Keep…_she'd heard it called. Now while she nervously waited, she gazed around at what was obviously some sort of laboratory and its vast array of medical equipment, computers, a menagerie of creatures in glass tanks lining the walls and a battered dentists chair dominating the large cavernous space. 

It was glaringly obvious to her now that this was a government building and these people federal agents, and she found herself wondering exactly what sort of devil's pact had brought Darien to a place like this That thought was still troubling her as the metal door to the lab slid open and a woman with long blond hair entered. She was smiling in a vaguely reassuring way, and Frankie recognized her straight away as Monroe's singing partner from the bar a few night's earlier.

"Hello Frankie, I'm Claire Keeply, Darien's doctor."

She took the outstretched hand and returned the smile with a strained little one of her own.

"So you really are his doctor."

"Yes, I am." Claire's smile broadened. "Why don't we make ourselves a bit more comfortable." She gestured towards the desk and a couple of chairs. "You might be in for a bit of a wait."

Once Frankie was seated, Claire walked across to the large glass fronted refrigerator, rummaged around inside for a minute before emerging with a satisfied grin and two small bottles of water. She handed one of the bottles to Frankie and then sat herself down opposite. Frankie nodded her thanks before taking a long swallow from the bottle.

"Exactly how much has Darien told you?" Claire began carefully after a few minutes.

"Not much really," Frankie responded, wiping a hand delicately over her mouth. "Just that he had some surgery which kept him out of prison. He said that if I knew too much it could be dangerous for me."

Claire breathed a tiny sigh of relief at Frankie's response. She knew for certain that Darien would never intentionally reveal details about the Project, but her orders from The Official had been specific; she was to find out exactly what information he'd disclosed to his former girlfriend - presumably so that the Fat Man could then make a decision on what level of punishment to mete out on this occasion.

"He's in a lot of trouble now because of me, isn't he?"

"Well, our boss does get pretty cross when he just …disappears… like that, but he'll get over it…eventually.." Claire cast a nervous glance upwards, as if she could see right on through the ceiling to The Official's office. "Darien's a very special man - though I expect you know that already, don't you?" Frankie answered Claire's question with a shy nod, and Claire smiled sweetly back at her.. "We're all very fond of him too, which is why we're a tad over-protective at times."

"Whatever they did to Darien has made him sick, hasn't it?" Frankie stared intently at the other woman, as if this would somehow give her an insight into what the hell was going on.

"No…uh…not really," Claire began. "All I'm at liberty to say is that he does need regular medical checks, but they're fairly routine…mostly." Despite her own words of assurance some inner alarm bell sounded. "Why do you ask?" she asked trying to keep the question as casual as possible.

Frankie shrugged. "I was just a little worried after…you know…after he blacked out on me like that - he said it was just food poisoning or something. But even though he won't admit it, I know he's still not feeling well…" her words trailed off as she saw the combination of shock, anger and concern wash over the doctor's face. "Oh crap. He didn't tell you did he?"

Claire was up and out of her chair, grabbing for the phone. "No he bloody well didn't, the stupid bloody fool." Pressing one of the quick dial buttons on the handset and speaking as soon as it was picked up at the other end. "Wesley…I need the results of all of Darien's recent blood work ASAP. It looks as if those anomalies we found might have been causing him a few problems after all." She listened intently for a few seconds before continuing. "You just gather as much of the data as you can and I'll try to grab Darien as soon as they've finished with him upstairs."

Claire ran a hand across her face as her mind mentally counted off the numerous tests she needed to run now. It might be nothing, of course. There was no reason why Darien couldn't just have suffered a case of food poisoning, after all she'd warned him often enough about the odious junk food he liked to consume on a fairly regular basis. But despite all attempts to allay her own concerns, she just couldn't shake off the feeling that this was going to be bad.

* * *

"No, I'm not gonna do it." Darien shifted his long frame and slouched down in the chair, folding his arms and staring straight ahead defiantly. Besides him Bobby drew in a sharp breath. 

"Excuse me?" Special Agent Ralph Keating of the FBI asked incredulously. The man was all slicked back hair, sharp suit and patronizing manner and he and Darien had hated each other virtually on sight.

"You heard asshole."

"Fawkes!" The Official hissed a warning.

The second of the two FBI Agents, Dee Davies - a powerfully built black man probably somewhere in his late 30s - knew instinctively that they needed to let this one play out gently; strong arm tactics would be wasted here.

"My department has been investigating Dominic Casati for over three years now, but up until Agent Coleman's murder we'd never even got close to an arrest." Davies leaned forward in his seat, trying for some one-on-one eye contact with Darien. "We have Francesca's signed statement that she witnessed the murder, but unless she agrees to go on the witness stand and testify against her brother we have no case and the slippery bastard will get away with it. You'd be doing us a great service if you could use some gentle persuasion on her, Agent Fawkes."

"What part of 'I'm not freakin' doing it', don't you people get?" Darien spat acidly. Adding after a moment mostly for Borden and Hobbes' benefit "They've screwed her over once already, and I ain't gonna let it happen again."

Now, would probably have been a good time to reveal the existence of the disk and its contents but some nagging doubt kept Darien silent, even though the object in question was currently burning a hole in the pocket of his khakis.

Keating gave a derisive snort. It was obvious to him that Charles Borden had no control over this smart ass ex-thief. He gave Darien his best leering smile.

"And by all accounts we're not the only ones who've screwed the lovely Francesca. I hear she's quite a girl."

That was it! Darien was out of his chair and hauling Keating up by the collar of his expensive shirt before the man knew what was happening, shaking him violently until he was gasping for breath. But before he could even get in one satisfying blow Bobby grabbed him from behind.

"Fawkes, calm down. Calm down buddy." Forcibly dragging a still cursing Darien back and holding him there firmly.

While all this was going on the Fat Man had pressed a button under his desk and just seconds later the door to his office crashed open and Alex Monroe and the two suited agents rushed into the room, wrenching Darien from Bobby's grasp before either of them had time to react and holding him between them, his arms twisted painfully up behind his back.

"Chief, tell 'em to back off, it's okay. Fawkesy's okay now, ain't that right partner?"

Darien spat something in Keating's direction that sounded like _"Fuckin' jerk off" _whilestill trying to struggle free of the painful arm lock to get at least one satisfying smack in. Bobby rolled his eyes in frustration.

Borden ignored Bobby and spoke over his head to Monroe. "Take him downstairs to cool off." And then to Darien. "For now, consider yourself confined to base. You are _not_ to leave this building unless you have my specific authorization to do so, do you understand?"

Darien didn't bother to respond, preferring instead to glare murderously at Keating; who now looked seriously freaked. A moment later Darien was hauled out between the two suits, with Bobby just about to follow on behind when Borden's voice stopped him dead.

"Bobby, STAY." And then turning to Agent Davies. "My assistant will prepare the necessary paperwork to transfer Miss Casati into your custody, and I believe we're due a reward for her arrest." He just couldn't suppress a satisfied shared smirk with Eberts at this point. "Then I want you to take her and this piece of work," jerking his thumb towards Keating, "and get the hell out of my Agency."

Keating adjusted his tie and tried to compose himself, ignoring a warning growl from his partner to point a trembling finger towards the door. "I want that agent put on report. He's obviously got psychological issues."

Borden let out a loud snort of laughter. "Hah, if you think he has 'issues' now Agent Keating, just be glad you didn't try that crap on him a few months ago."

Bobby nodded in agreement, knowing the chief was talking about the ole Red Eye - Quicksilver Madness - which thankfully his partner had been free of for several months now.

Keating made to move towards the door, but stopped when he realized that Davies wasn't following him, The older man was clearing his throat to speak again..

"Uh, Mr. Borden, sir, there may be another problem,"

The Fat Man raised an eyebrow.

"There's every chance that Dominic Casati knows of Agent Fawkes' involvement with his sister. You'd be wise to keep him out of sight for the time being for his own safety. I wouldn't put it past Casati to try to use him to get to Francesca."

Borden visibly stiffened. "Agent Davies, perhaps you'd care to explain to me how that happened? How the safety of _my_ agent could have been compromised in such a short space of time." His tone was laced with barely concealed rage. At least Davies had the decency to look sheepish.

"We've got a leak in the department. Someone's been tipping off Casati the whole time. That's how he found out so quickly when his sister approached us about Coleman's murder."

"No wonder the kid ran." Hobbes spat contemptuously. "You had a duty to protect her as a key witness, instead you practically threw her to the freakin' wolves."

"Yes, well, " Borden cut in dismissively, "we're perfectly capable of protecting our own. And Agent Fawkes won't be going anywhere for the foreseeable future."

Davies nodded. "That's never been in question, sir. But Dominic Casati is a ruthless sonofabitch. I've seen what that man is capable of, and if he gets his hands on Agent Fawkes the only way you're likely to get him back is in a body bag."

* * *

Darien sat on the edge of the cot in the cell with his head buried in his hands. The door was open but the two suits hovering just outside and Monroe's veiled threat before she'd left, made it clear that he had no choice but to stay put - for the moment anyway. 

He didn't even bother to look up when Hobbes entered, waiting until the other man had settled in the chair opposite before asking the question that Hobbes knew was inevitable.

"What's gonna happen to Frankie?"

Just before coming down here to sit with his friend, Bobby had been on the receiving end of yet another tirade from The Official on how Fawkes needed to take more responsibility for his actions.. He sighed, suddenly feeling world weary. It had been a very long couple of days.

"We're handing her over to the Fibbies. What the hell did you think was gonna happen, you numbskull?" His tone was a lot harsher than he intended, but he just couldn't help himself with everything that was at stake. "You're better off rid of her, trust me."

"Yeah, well maybe I don't wanna be rid of her," Darien responded in little more than a whisper, finally meeting Bobby's gaze. Despite wanting to maintain his tough stance, Bobby found his anger fade away as he stared at the despondent individual right in front of him.

"Darien. It's reality check time here," he offered sympathetically. "Believe me, it just ain't gonna happen. There's no 'happy ever after' at the end of this story." He waited for any sort of response from his partner, and when none was forthcoming decided to continue. "Her type is off limits to you now, buddy boy.."

"Her _type," _Darien echoed caustically. "And what do you know about her _type, _HobbesyWanna share here, man?"

Bobby considered his words carefully, knowing that he had a tendency to mouth off and say things he'd regret later on. But then…what the hell! "Okay, I know the mob and if you ask me she's nothing but trouble. You piss off one of their women and before you know it you're waking up in bed with bits of Seabiscuit."

Darien stared at his friend incredulously and then suddenly his mouth twitched and surprisingly he began to laugh, and a moment later Bobby started too. "Yeah, well don't say I didn't warn ya, junior," Hobbes managed to gasp out, which brought about another burst of uncontrollable giggles from both of them

The two suits watched all of this with open bewilderment until the laughter had died down, and Hobbes was on his feet and heading straight for the door.

"Where ya goin', Hobbesy?" Darien's voice was laced with concern now as he jumped up instinctively to follow his partner, groaning in frustration as the guards moved in quickly to block his exit, pushing him forcibly back into the cell.

Hobbes paused, keen to ensure that the mooks didn't try anything too heavy with the kid.

"You cool your heels down here for awhile and try to behave. I'm gonna go see if I can get you some private time with Al Capone's sister before they haul her off."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Darien, will you please hold still," Claire pleaded, as her Kept's restless fidgeting dislodged one of the numerous wires currently attached to strategic points all over his head and torso He was lying horizontal on the administration chair, naked to the waste and bored to death.

Surrounding him on all sides was a large array of machinery, including an ECG and a state-of-the-art portable brain scanner that they'd only recently acquired and Claire had been itching to play with. She waited until Wesley Carter had reattached the electrode in question with a piece of tape just under Darien's left breastbone, before tapping some instructions into her computer keyboard and then watching in eager anticipation as the ECG printer suddenly came to life, its precious data recorded across the endless stream of paper almost instantly coiling out of it.

"How much longer, Keepie?" Darien whined. "'Cause I _really_ need to pee." He squirmed a little more for emphasis.

"I warned you it would be a long session. You should have gone before we started." Claire was currently marking points on the readout, too distracted to pay much attention to him.

"Didn't need to then…now I do,." came the churlish response. "And unless you let me up, I might be forced to do something that'll seriously interfere with the electronics… if you know what I mean."

"Oh, good grief. Go on then." She indicated grudgingly to Carter, who began to detach the electrodes. Darien sat up immediately with a relieved sigh and stretched, swinging his legs over the side of the chair..

"Come to think of it," Claire slapped a glass container into his hand before he could scoot past to the bathroom, "I'm going to need a fresh sample of _that_ too."

After he'd answered the call of nature, Darien washed his hands and then studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror, deciding that he definitely looked as lousy as he felt His skin had lost some of its natural tan, dark shadows circled his eyes and his hair seemed to be making its own statement too - he ran his fingers through the limp strands to push it back off his face.

He was tired and cranky, his appetite had gone to hell and he could feel the onset of another mind-numbing headache, but he'd convinced himself that at least some of his decline in health was due to his continued fretting over Frankie.

True to his word as always, Hobbes had managed to get them a precious 10 minutes alone before the FBI had taken her away from him, more than enough time though for Darien to promise that he'd find her as soon as he was cut loose - they couldn't keep him locked down in the basement forever…could they? That had been 3 days ago, and since then Bobby had been giving him fairly regular updates, even arranging for them to speak on the phone on one occasion. Though the latest news that she was now settled in an FBI safe house, didn't actually fill Darien with that much confidence for some reason.

He dragged himself back sluggishly to The Keep, mentally preparing himself for another tedious session hooked up to Claire's machinery, but as the door slid open ahead of him he was surprised to find Bobby and Eberts on the other side. From the expression on both of their faces he knew it wasn't good news. Darien handed over the completely full container to Claire with an embarrassed little shrug, and then turned to face them.

"What's going on?" he asked eventually, when it became obvious that neither man wanted to be the messenger. He tried again. "Hobbes?"

Hobbes shot Eberts a look of pure thunder before he squared his shoulders and turned to his partner. "There's no easy way of tellin' ya this kid, so I'm just gonna come right out and say it. Your girl is missing."

Darien sank down into the nearest chair and just stared in stunned disbelief. Claire was at his side immediately, one hand resting on his forehead and the other firmly grasping his wrist to monitor his pulse, which had been fluctuating alarmingly these past couple of days. He didn't seem to notice though, barely able to find his voice. "When? How?"

It was Eberts' turn to contribute. "Earlier today. By all accounts her location was compromised and they were moving her to another safe house. Two agents were badly injured during the snatch, and there's no sign of Miss Casati."

"Well, Frankie wouldn't have had anything to do with that." Darien vainly tried to struggle up from the chair, but Claire was having none of it and held him down firmly.

"No-one thinks she's responsible buddy," Bobby assured. "Truth is, we're all worried about her."

"The Official has volunteered Agents Hobbes and Monroe's services to help the Bureau with the investigation," Eberts ventured cautiously.

"What about me?" Darien protested.

"Don't be ridiculous.," Claire scolded. "Anyone can see you're not well enough."

"Keepie?" The concern was evident in Bobby's voice, but Claire just gave a quick shake of her head, her eyes darting to Darien and then away for emphasis. Whatever she had to tell him would have to wait until later, as she obviously didn't want Darien to hear it for the moment. Bobby's heart skipped several beats.

Darien wasn't about to give up. "Everyone knows who's got her. Just get me a few minutes alone with that mother of a brother, and I'll swear I'll break every bone in his body until he tells me where she is."

"You're off active duty Fawkes, remember." Hobbes looked genuinely apologetic "And by the look of things you're in no fit state to break anyone's bones, except maybe a few of your own . This one's off limits to you, and that's a direct order from the Chief."

"Well, I don't give a damn if it's a direct order from ole George. Dubya himself," he countered, finally getting up off the chair with Claire hovering protectively beside him. "I either come with, or I'll find a way out of here myself. And you all know I can do that."

Bobby scratched the top of his head and peered questioningly at Claire. "I…uh…I dunno, buddy."

"Well, don't look at me," she snapped, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "The stubborn fool's already made up his mind, and nothing I say will change it."

"C'mon, Bobby," Darien pleaded. "Tag me, drug me, hell you can even cuff me to one of Fatso's little minders, but get me out of here man. Let me help find Frankie Please."

"Eberts, you think you could maybe clear this with the Chief?

The color drained from Eberts' face as soon as he realized the attention was now focused solely on him, one hand reaching to loosen the collar of his shirt. He cleared his throat. "That would be a firm negative Robert," he tried vainly. "The Official's orders regarding Darien are very specific…"

"Well, then we'll have to do it without him knowing," Bobby cut across the other man's flustered objections, winning a grateful grin from Darien. "You'll only need to cover our asses for a few hours."

"What…uh…no," Eberts spluttered, turning in the hope of securing some sort of back up from Claire, but she just shrugged her shoulders.

"I'll owe you for this one Ebes." Darien continued, quashing the last of the young clerk's protestations He patted the bewildered man's back as he hurried past, turning to call to Bobby ."Just gimme a minute here to get dressed."

Ebert gave a defeated sigh. "Oh dear. If you all insist on pulling me into your tangled web of deceit, then I'd better make sure that The Official is kept occupied, at least until you've left the premises."

They watched as Eberts also left The Keep, and as soon as he'd cleared the doors Bobby turned back to confront Claire.

"So, how bad is he?"

She faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected question. "The…the tests have so far proven inconclusive."

"But?" Bobby prompted forcefully. He wasn't in the mood for any hesitancy or her usual convoluted doctor-speak. He wanted it straight. Good or bad. Claire studied her friend in return, knowing she owed him the truth, or at least as much of it as they knew at the moment.

"It's bad," she confirmed finally. "We've seen a marked deterioration in Darien's health, even in the last few days. He's getting increasingly weaker - though he would never admit it - and he's had a couple of mild seizures. And for most of yesterday he was fighting a migraine - we were forced to sedate him late last night so that he could get a few hours sleep."

Seeing the look of fear registering on Hobbes' face, Claire reached out a calming hand to touch his arm. "It's not the QSM returning Bobby, if that's what you think" she assured gently "Darien's truly free of that now."

"Then what?" Bobby couldn't disguise the fear and frustration in his tone. "The kid looks like shit."

She paused again and spoke just as Bobby thought he might have to grab her shoulders and shake it out of her. "We think there might be a problem…with the Gland."

He stared at her blankly. "Well can't you fix it, give it a shot…or somethin'"

"If it were only that simple…" her sentence trailed away as the doors of The Keep slid open and a fully dressed but disheveled looking Darien appeared, beckoning impatiently for his partner to join him.

"C'mon Hobbes, we're wasting time. See ya later Keepie."

Claire touched Bobby's arm as he turned to follow. "Don't let him out of your sight for a moment Bobby. And you bring him back straight away if he starts to feel unwell. Promise," she urged.

Bobby nodded and squeezed her hand. "Yeah, promise. All we'll be doin' is asking a few questions, chasing a few leads - nothing heavy."

From somewhere far down the hallway Darien called impatiently again to Hobbes, and Bobby gave a fond grin and rolled his eyes. "I'll have him back before ya know it."

* * *

Special Agent Ralph Keating shared a mutual scowl with Darien Fawkes as he stood aside to let the Agency trio trail past into the 6th floor briefing room, where Dee Davies was waiting to update them on the search for Francesca Casati.

Hobbes and Monroe had been expected, but Fawkes showing up with them had come as a bit of a surprise and one that he was now determined to use to his advantage. Charles Borden had obviously taken the warning about his agent's safety seriously enough to keep him well out of harms way for the past few days, but the young woman's abduction had brought the wise ass scurrying out into the open…at last.

Keating waited until the door of the briefing room closed, then grabbed his cell from his desk and rapidly left the office. Heading through a set of double doors out into the foyer and straight for a staircase, where he hoped he would find some degree of privacy to make his call.

The phone at the other end was picked up on the third ring.

"It's me…Keating." Even though he had the entire staircase to himself he kept his voice deliberately low; not wanting to risk it echoing through the empty space. "You wanted to know the minute Fawkes surfaced. Well, he's right here at the Bureau, along with that partner of his and a bitch by the name of Alex Monroe."

His foot tapped restlessly against the hard surface as he waited for some sort of response from the other end.

"_Bring him to me."_

Keating looked stunned. "With respect Mr. Casati, how the hell do you expect me to do that? Fawkes' people have already been warned that he's a potential target, so they're not likely to let him out of their sight. "

"_Well find a way."_ Came the rigid response. _"Isn't that what I pay you for?"_

"You don't know what you're asking." Keating sank down onto the stairs and ran a hand nervously across his face and through his hair.

"_I know exactly what I'm asking,"_ Casati growled back. _"I need to dispose of all the loose ends to get the Feds off my back once and for all. So, it's perfectly simple. I want Fawkes and I want that damned disk, so you get them for me…and make it fast. " _

When their meeting with Davies had more or less wrapped up, Darien made his excuses and wandered out of the briefing room, leaving Hobbes and Monroe behind to go over a few additional details with the man. Despite wanting to hear every scrap of Intel about Frankie's kidnapping and what the FBI were doing to find her, Darien was glad to be out of the room and away from under Hobbes' almost relentless scrutiny - at least for a few minutes.

Several times during the meeting, he'd caught his friend staring at him with that irritating over-protective mother hen look of his, and it was a fair bet that the senior agent had an inkling that his partner was putting on an act in an effort to prevent his ass being sent straight back to his Keeper. And Darien had every intention of avoiding that at all costs, at least until he knew Frankie was safe and well. The terrifying certainty that she was back in the hands of her brother - maybe hurt and scared - is all that kept him from giving in to the pounding in his head, overwhelming exhaustion and general crappiness that seemed to permeate his existence of late.

According to Davies, Dominic Casati has been questioned at length about his sister's kidnapping, but of course the clever bastard had a cast iron alibi which put him about 50 miles north at the time of the incident, so his high-priced lawyers had bailed him in no time at all. Davies and his team were now in a race against time to search all of Casati's known properties - both business and residential - before those same lawyers got the anticipated court injunction keeping the Bureau from harassing their client any further. No-one really expected to stumble across Frankie in any of these locations, but with a lack of any solid evidence or actually knowing where to start their options were limited. They had no choice but to go through the motions and hope for a break along the way.

While Darien waited, he leaned against the doorway and glanced around the large open-plan office, his gaze locking almost instantly with Ralph Keating who was at his desk, lounging back in his chair and sipping from a steaming cup of coffee.

A second later Hobbes was coming up behind him and his hand patted Darien's shoulder. "Okay buddy, we're out of here," the older man advised. "Me and you are teaming up with the Fibbies to search a few of Casati's properties. Monroe's gonna go talk to a couple of her own contacts to see if we can maybe find your girl that way."

It took him just a second to realize that Darien had stepped away and not much more than that to know exactly why.

"Gimme just a minute here Hobbes. Just wanna go say 'hi' to my old bud over there."

For once Bobby's reflexes failed him and he missed in his attempt to grab his friend before he could do something stupid. "No, Fawkes, wait up there. Fawkes...aw crap."

Keating eyed Darien's casual approach warily, taking a look around to make sure he had  
plenty of witnesses in case the punk went psycho on him again. But to his surprise the tall man was grinning amiably.

"Hey, it's Ralphy, right?"

"Ralph,." the FBI Agent advised curtly, as Darien perched himself on the edge of his desk.

"Yeah, whatever. I just wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day." Darien gestured back to where his partner stood, arms folded, keeping a watchful eye on the little scene in case he needed to dive in and extricate his friend. "Hobbes there is always warning me about shooting my mouth off like that. So, if I was outta line…"

It's okay," Keating responded through a thin smile. He'd been expecting some sort of confrontation with Fawkes, not an apology and wondered where this was leading. "Let's just put it down to the heat of the moment."

"Really?"

"Sure, why not!" he offered magnanimously.

Darien seemed genuinely pleased. "That's really big of you man, considering I called you an _asshole _and a _jerk off." _Keating stiffened slightly, but Darien just continued on regardless. "Now that we're all gonna be working together on this case ya know, I just wanted to clear the air and make sure there was no bad blood between us."

"No, it's fine."

He jumped up off the desk suddenly. "I gotta go tell Hobbesy the good news. Catch ya later Ralphy."

Keating watched as Darien leaned down to whisper something to Hobbes and then he thought he heard the smaller man splutter something like, _"No Fawkes, tell me you didn't!" _before throwing an amused glance over his shoulder as he shoved his partner out of the office.

The knowledge that he'd probably been played didn't concern Ralph Keating that much.

If Fawkes thought he'd gained some sort of upper hand by that show of…whatever it was…then that suited him just fine. Let the smart ass have his moment while he still could. Keating relaxed back in his chair once again; he had a bit of time on his hands before they needed to assemble for a final briefing Enough time to finish his coffee and then put in another call to Casati to warn him of his impending visitors.

Keating brought the mug to his lips, eagerly anticipating the taste of the coffee - strong and sweet, just the way he liked it. Instead he yelped in surprise and pain as his lips met a hard, freezing cold wall of solid ice.

* * *

Hobbes snapped his cell phone shut and made his way across to where Darien and the FBI team were huddled around a map spread out over the hood of a car.

Dee Davies finished marking up the next three sites on their hit list and was now in the process of selecting the teams for each raid, with Darien hovering expectantly. Bobby almost hated what he was going to do next but he had his orders from Claire, and

Darien did look just about ready to drop despite all denials on his part.

Davies was saying, "Team 1 should take the Cabrillo property, with Teams 2 & 3 hitting the offices and the warehouse near Lindbergh Field

Darien noted Bobby's approach . "Everything okay?" he asked guardedly, as Hobbes touched his arm and guided him off to one side away from the group. .

"That was Claire. You're wanted back at HQ. junior."

"Aw man! C'mon Bobby, please don't make…"

Before his friend could carry on with the protest, Hobbes reached out a hand and placed it firmly on his shoulder, staring intently into the younger man's troubled eyes.

"We've got no choice," he said firmly.. "The Fish is getting suspicious and Eberts is running out of things to do to keep him distracted. 'Sides, you look terrible Fawkes. It's time for you to call it a day. Go back, get some shut eye and you can start afresh tomorrow, 'kay?"

Realizing from his partner's resolute stance that any protest would be pointless, Darien gave a grudging nod. Hobbes jerked his thumb towards a dark saloon and the red-haired, skinny rookie Agent who stood beside it. "Jennings there is gonna chauffeur you right to the door"

Darien allowed himself to be guided gently towards the vehicle, with Hobbes fussing around until he was safely settled in the rear passenger seat.

"Bobby, promise you'll call if you get a break…" Darien started.

"That's an affirmative, partner," the older man assured.

As Hobbes shut the door and stepped back ready to allow the car to pull away, he sensed a presence behind him and turned to find Keating hovering there.

"You think I can hitch a ride?" The man was asking "I've gotta get back to the office urgently."

Bobby gazed curiously at Darien who gave a disinterested shrug, too exhausted and despondent to actually give a damn at this point.

"Sure," Bobby confirmed uneasily. "But Fawkes gets the first drop off."

"Fine with me." Keating was already in the front passenger seat by this time and belting himself in..

"And try not to piss him off."

Bobby stood and watched until the car disappeared from view down the long expanse of road The knowledge that Darien was safely on board and on his way back to The Agency should have given him some peace of mind. But if that were the case, why then was his relief tempered by a unrelenting nagging doubt that all was not right.

* * *

Keating glanced over his shoulder into the rear of the car where Darien seemed to be deep in sleep, his head resting against the door. He'd been that way pretty much the entire journey - it was going to make taking him a whole lot easier.

The more immediate problem was their rookie driver, Agent Dwight Jennings, though the young man was totally oblivious to the black van that had been trailing some distance behind them for the last mile or so. Now as they drove through the mostly deserted streets en route to The Harding Building, supposedly to deliver Fawkes back into the safe hands of his Agency superiors, Jennings finally seemed to sit up and take notice when the van suddenly accelerated.

Darien mumbled something inaudible in his sleep, shifting suddenly to adjust the rolled up jacket he'd been using as a make-shift pillow. His eyes fluttered open briefly but didn't focus on anything in particular before they closed again, at which point Keating let out the breath he'd been holding.

The van had narrowed the gap between the two vehicles. It was time to move.

"Uh…I uh, think we may have a problem." Jennings glanced nervously in the near side mirror and saw the headlights from the van flash at them a couple of times.

Keating made a show of turning all the way round in his seat to study their pursuers properly. "Nah, it's okay. I know these guys, they're from The Agency. Probably told to meet us halfway to take sleeping beauty here off our hands. They're signaling us to pull over."

Jennings flashed him a worried look. "I dunno. I promised Agent Hobbes that I'd deliver his partner right to the door. He didn't mention nothing about nobody meeting us halfway." A moment later he heard a rustle and a familiar click and found himself staring down the barrel of Keating's gun.

"Now, pull over asshole," came the hissed order and the young agent obediently jerked the steering wheel to the right, bringing the vehicle to an abrupt halt by an empty parking lot. Darien was thrown forward, his head colliding painfully with the back of the drivers seat.

"Ow…what the fu…," was all he managed before the dull thud of a shot from a silenced pistol and the sound of a window shattering into a zillion pieces brought him to full consciousness in a split second.

The scene that greeted him was utterly, mind-numbingly horrific.

Keating held a pistol over Jennings' lifeless body which was slumped awkwardly to one side against the door, part of his head now a sticky, bloody oozing mess. Darien moved fast and has his own door open just in time to heave the entire contents of his stomach onto the sidewalk.

"Holy crap."

Someone - probably Keating- shouted something as Darien tumbled the rest of the way from the vehicle, and did the only thing that seemed sensible under the circumstances. Taking a couple of measured breaths he willed the Quicksilver to quickly coat his entire body, then hauled his now invisible ass up and bolted across the parking lot as fast as his wildly protesting body would allow. Ahead of him loomed the shadowed outlines of a long row of low buildings - probably warehouses - and where there were buildings there were dark alleyways and even darker corners where they could all play hide and go seek, until he could figure a way to call Hobbes for backup.

Somewhere behind him he heard another vehicle squeal to a halt.

"Where the hell did he go?" Someone cursed.

"He's around here somewhere, spread out," ordered voice number two.

Darien guessed it was probably too much to hope that any of these were the good guys.

"Mr. Casati is gonna be hugely pissed if we lose him."

Okay, so definitely not the good guys.

He stumbled on and from somewhere back in the direction he had just come, another shout went up which had Darien half-turning to check out the source of the commotion. And that's when his foot caught on a piece of loose rubble and he went sprawling, the Quicksilver dispersing in a cascade of shimmering flakes as his concentration faltered.. And at that precise moment the beam from a powerful torch cut through the darkness, hitting the exact spot where he now lay prone and exposed.

"There he is!"

Unmitigated fear gave Darien the extra burst of adrenalin he needed to somehow push himself upright from his knees and take off again, his breath coming in long ragged gasps now as he struggled to reach his one and only hope of escape. Several footsteps pounded across the parking lot behind him and he didn't need to turn to know that they were closing…fast. A second or two later he heard a loud grunt as something heavy slammed into his back and then he was going down again, his body impacting painfully with the hard surface.

The man on top of him must have weighed at least a ton of solid muscle, which held Darien effectively in place as one of his buddies rushed to join in the fun, driving his booted foot brutally into his exposed left side. The mass holding him down deciding it might be even more fun to follow through with the kidney blow which put an end entirely to Darien's pathetic attempts at a struggle.

Then they were hauling him up between them, not even giving Darien a chance to regain his footing as they half dragged him over towards the black van, back to where two figures stood waiting for them.

Darien caught Keating's smirking grin as he was hustled past and slammed up against the side of the van, and then the man's breath was hot against his cheek as he moved in behind.

"Assume the position, wise ass," came the smug command as Darien's arms were forcibly stretched out before him so that they were supporting his body, and a booted foot kicked his legs back and apart. Then Keating expertly patted him down, tossing any items found - like his cell phone, wallet and ID - to the hood on the right. After a few minutes of this Darien was spun around to face Keating, who pushed his tee shirt up and ran his hands under his arms and then around the waistband of his jeans.

When the search was over, Darien's hands were pulled in front of him and handcuffs snapped tightly around both wrists, the cold metal biting into flesh. Keating took a step back and turned to speak to the man who up until that point had remained out of sight.

"He's clean. He doesn't have it with him Mr. Casati."

Darien's head jerked around to stare in shock at the figure now emerging from the shadows, a smile on the handsome face that didn't quite reach the man's dark eyes.

"Where is it Fawkes?" Casati's tone was bordering on conversational.

"Where's what?" Darien responded his own voice and manner one of pure innocence, which at that moment was a good cover to quell the feeling of dread that had settled over him the instant he realized that Big Bad Dom had been willing to risk it all to come out from behind the safety of his assorted lawyers and henchmen, to personally supervise his capture…and probable cold-blooded murder.

"To be honest, "Casati continued pleasantly, "I didn't actually believe you'd be stupid enough to carry it on you. But if you want to see my little sister Frankie again…and I know she desperately wants to see you Darien…you will give me the disk."

Darien pushed away from the van and made a move towards Casati, which was immediately blocked by the WWF wannabe who'd almost broken his back in the parking lot.

"If you've laid a finger on her…" Darien felt his frustration mounting as the big man pushed him back against the van and held him firmly in place with one huge hand pinned to the center of his chest, while Casati looked on more than a little amused. Then suddenly he was holding out his hand towards Keating, clicking his fingers expectantly.

"Give me your gun."

Keating looked like he might refuse but obviously knew better, sullenly tugging the weapon from his shoulder holster and handing it over as ordered. Casati caressed the smooth metal almost lovingly, then without warning lunged towards Darien and grabbed a handful of hair as he jammed the weapon spitefully into the side of his head, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain as he ground it in against. flesh.

"There's something you should know about me Fawkes." His mouth was pressed close to Darien's ear while his fingers twisted and tightened their painful grip on his hair. "I love my sister - very much - but I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to forgive her betrayal. See, if I don't punish her for it, how's it gonna look to people, huh?" A cold smile touched his face. "But, I might be willing to trade."

The gun pressed in even harder for emphasis and Darien winced. "Trade what?" he managed to get out through gritted teeth.

"The disk, of course, and…oh… your life for hers," Casati responded flatly. "I figure that watching you die…horribly….might help little sis get her loyalties into perspective. And if you're a good boy and co-operate then I might even spare her that, entertaining as it's gonna be for the rest of us."

"You sick bastard." Darien spat out the words just as Casati withdrew the gun and cracked it heavily into the side of his skull, releasing him with a sudden violent shove that sent Darien reeling backwards into the van and crumbling to the ground in a dazed heap. Casati then pivoted on his heels pointed the gun at Keating and fired, all in one fluid movement.

He stared down at the body dispassionately. "Before we get to the real fun, I just needed to clean up a few loose ends and you were one of them." Casati tossed the gun aside casually, then stepped over Keating's lifeless form without a backward glance and climbed back into the van.

"Bring him," came the barked order, and a stunned Darien was immediately grabbed by the two hoods.

After that, pretty much everything was a blur.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry it's taken me so long to post the remaining chapters of this fic, but work and other commitments have had to take priority of late - damn them..

And thank you for the encouraging feedback, there's really nothing better to re-ignite those creative impulses.

Enjoy..

**Chapter 9**

Darien opened his eyes and then screwed them tightly shut again when the room around him started to tilt alarmingly. After a minute or two of struggling to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged he tried again, and found that by opening one eye at a time his surroundings gradually stopped swaying back and forth and he was able to focus.

He was lying on a low soft white leather couch, with a couple of men - not the two from the parking lot - seated at a table close by drinking coffee and playing cards. For some reason they still appeared to be rocking from side to side and it took another careful look around to explain why…exactly. He was on a boat and a fairly luxurious one if the internal décor was anything to go by. Somebody - and he had no doubt that somebody was Dominic Casati - definitely liked their luxuries.

The side of his head where Keating's gun had been smacked into it, was a burning mass of pain and Darien raised his cuffed hands to the wound, surprised to find a wad of bandage covering it. His movement alerting one of the men who called to someone at the other end of the cabin.

"The Fed's awake."

A moment later Dominic Casati was staring down at him.

"You have Frankie to thank for that," he advised, gesturing to the bandage as he perched himself on the edge of the couch. "We couldn't have you bleeding all over the furniture."

"Hey, compassion's a wonderful thing," he quipped back, easing himself up into as much of a sitting position as he could manage.

For a long moment Casati studied Darien with genuine interest. "You wanna tell me what makes you so special, Fawkes?" he asked finally. "Some of my friends were very interested when I mentioned your name to them. In fact, Johnny Castignacci's people said to say a special 'hello' from them."

Darien shifted on the couch again and rubbed the side of his nose, an amused smile playing on his face. "I guess it must have something to do with my engaging personality," he responded glibly.

"Still the same smart mouth, huh?"

"Uh, well, I do my best. But I'd say anything was better than being a cold-blooded, murderin' motherf…"

A hard palm slammed into the side of his head, followed by a growled warning from the big brute who'd been hovering in the background. "Have some respect."

Casati nodded his approval, and continued as soon as Darien had recovered sufficiently from the blow to focus properly. "Frankie mentioned that you were sick." For some reason his comment brought a low rumble of laughter from the brute still looming close by. " I must say, you don't look so hot Fawkes."

"What do you really care." Darien couldn't suppress the venom despite the pounding in his head.

"You're right . I don't care," Casati asserted. "But there is someone who does seem to, and unless you want her to have a front row seat when we feed you to the sharks, then you'd better get me that damned disk." He gestured to one of the men seated at the table who got up immediately and left the cabin, returning a few minutes later with Frankie in tow. She looked tired, but apart from a yellowish bruise under one eye seemed unharmed. Darien gave her a reassuring smile which she returned with a tiny one of her own, before shifting her gaze nervously to her brother.

"You know Fawkes," Casati spoke as he walked over to stand beside Frankie, one hand grabbing her arm and tugging her rigid body in close. "I'm wondering if little sis here has been completely honest with you." He felt Frankie tense and smiled. "If you're gonna sacrifice yourself for her, I think it's only fair we should set you straight on a few things here. Oh, like the fact that she was screwing around with Coleman, and that the two of them were planning to blackmail me." Casati was really enjoying himself, and the look of complete shock on Darien's face spoke for itself.. "Guess she must have a thing for thieves who're Feds, or vice versa."

Frankie tried to pull away but he just tightened his grip on her. "You bastard," she whimpered.

Casati ignored her to continue. "I thought that killing him might actually bring her to her senses, but the next thing I know she's gone running to the Feds." He shook his head sadly at her, and when he turned back to Darien a cold smile was back in place. "I'm willing to bet she also forgot to mention that when she called the other day, she offered to sell me the disk for a cool million bucks."

Frankie covered her face with her free hand and stared at Darien through her fingers. "I…I only asked for the money for us, so that we could use it to get away and start over somewhere. I was going to tell you, I promise/"

"Yeah, right!" Darien's bitter response was worse than a physical blow.

"He's twisting everything. Darien, please…," she tried forlornly, but he wouldn't even look at her now. Instead he had his defiant gaze fixed firmly on her brother..

"Y' know what! Screw you Dom. I'd rather burn in hell than give you the disk."

"That can be arranged." Turning to the big brute. "Get him up on deck Dino. I think it's time for a little water sport."

* * *

A person couldn't fail to be impressed by the sheer luxury and scale of the motor yacht when viewed from one of its three expansive decks. And Darien decided there and then that if this wasn't conclusive proof that crime definitely _did_ pay, then he didn't know what was.

The group now stood aft of the bridge deck, with Frankie vainly trying to struggle free of her brother's grasp as Darien was made to stand on unsteady legs while one end of a long coil of chain was looped tightly around his ankles, with the other end already attached to the hydraulic deck crane normally used for hoisting the power boat and other heavy pieces of equipment on and off the yacht. Once a padlock had been snapped into place securing the chain, he was pushed roughly down into a sitting position with Dino sneering him as he worked the control panel.

Almost mesmerized, Darien watched as it began to take up the slack until the length of chain was short enough to drag him onto his back and then lift him upwards until his body was hanging several feet above the deck. Somewhere over the roaring in his ears as the blood went rushing to his head he thought he could hear Frankie's panicked cries, but for the moment he needed to focus all of his concentration to delay the flow of Quicksilver that was already seeping from beneath his hairline, despite his best efforts to suppress it. No need to give the mob a free show.

When he opened his eyes again he found himself staring down into the deep waters of the Pacific, churning against the sleek white hull of the vessel.

Suddenly, with no warning, the tension on the chain was released and his body was plummeting downwards, and nothing could have prepared him for the shock as his body hit the water - hard - driving out most of the breath he'd taken in readiness. The Quicksilver dispersed on impact into tiny crystalline flakes which bobbed on the surface, catching the sunlight before they eventually dissolved, just as Darien sank into the depths, gasping as the water filled his lungs.

They didn't leave him down there long the first three times, just enough so that when they reeled his bedraggled and gasping form back up he was still conscious, though barely. Each time Casati would ask him about the disk and his response, usually followed by an expletive, would result in another dunking.

After the third time, Casati grabbed Frankie and dragged her over to the handrail forcing her into Darien's line of vision, the terrified look in her eyes followed him all the way back down into the water. This time they kept him under for much, much longer, jerking his body up and down so that the heavy chain around his ankles bit into already bruised and tender flesh; until way after he'd given up his panicked struggle and the futile attempt to retain the breath he'd held. The tightening band of pressure across his chest and the gradual clouding of his vision told him that he was drowning for real this time, and he wondered distractedly just who had said it was a pleasant way to die; obviously some joker who'd never had the impending pleasure of a soggy demise while bound hand and foot.

His life didn't literally flash before his eyes like it's supposed to, but his last cohesive thoughts were more like a collage of memories - some good and some bad. Kevin was there, of course, alongside Arnaud De Fehrn, and then the more dominant images of Bobby Hobbes - who'd become more like a brother to him than Kev ever was - and the lovely over-protective Claire, his Keeper. Even The Official made a brief scowling appearance, presumably not happy that his precious Gland was about to get waterlogged - and Darien found some sort of morbid amusement in that. They all merged as one and then floated in and out of his vision until only Frankie's face remained…and then came the darkness.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Dominic Casati stared across the deck to where Darien hunched on all fours was doing his best drowned rat impression, with what looked like half the Pacific Ocean still spewing out of his nose and mouth with each heaving, gasping cough.

"Idiot," Casati hissed at Dino. The man's stupidity had nearly lost them Fawkes…and with him any chance of getting the disk

It had been their intention to leave him underwater longer that last time, but then the klutz decided it might also be fun to jerk the Fed up and down a bit before they pulled him out, and that's when the machinery had jammed. By the time they'd got the thing working again and hauled Darien up and onto the deck they thought it was too late, until Frankie and one of the crew had somehow managed to revive the initially unresponsive form.

Now she had her arms draped around Darien as he retched violently one final time and then turned his head, focusing those forlorn dark brown eyes on her with the ghost of a smile trying to form on lips dry and cracked from the salt water. She pushed dripping strands of hair from his face, before taking a furtive glance across to where her brother stood watching the scene with more than a little interest

"Just give him the disk Darien, it's not worth dying for."

"'Kay,." came the weak response before he slumped sideways into her arms and passed out

* * *

Hobbes sat in his usual chair in The Official's office, waiting for the man to finish his furious tirade and calm down. Actually what was coming out of Borden's mouth went far beyond mere anger. All four of his most trusted agents now assembled before him had disobeyed a direct order, one which had resulted in the disappearance of one of their number- Darien Fawkes - and the cold-blooded slaughter of two more FBI Agents.

Claire was leaning up against the far window with her hand covering her mouth, and Alex Monroe sat uncharacteristically silent in the chair to Bobby's left usually occupied by his partner. Eberts cowered down behind his laptop, trying his best to keep out of Borden's direct line of fire.

Even if he'd felt like responding to the heated accusations being leveled at everybody within hearing distance - including the janitorial staff - Hobbes was just too stunned. No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, the image that kept pushing obtrusively into his mind was one of Darien with a mob bullet in his brain. He blamed himself, of course. He should've known better. If he hadn't given in so easily and allowed Darien to join the search for the Casati girl, then his friend would be home and safe. Now they had no idea where he was and the one person who could possibly have answered that question - Dominic Casati - was also on the missing list.

With a harsh scraping of wood on wood, Borden pushed back his chair to stand with surprising speed given his hefty body mass, and Bobby flinched as those fleshy fists pounded the desk.

"…and I'm holding every single one of you accountable for this," the Fat Man fumed. "If anything happens to Darien, then you'll all have to live with the consequences."

"Chief, I…" Bobby tried, but Borden's raised hand warned him to keep quiet as he turned his attention to his assistant.

"Eberts, report!" he barked and the young man began frantically tapping his keyboard. A moment later he glanced up, a puzzled frown on his pale face.

"Well sir…uh…we had a weak signal for a time, but as it was constantly on the move we were unable to pinpoint an exact location. Now we've lost it altogether, so we must assume that he's out of range or that something is interfering with the tracking signal."

It took just a shocked second for Bobby to realize the implications of that comment.

"Wait a freakin' minute here." He was up and out of his own chair now and facing down the Fat Man across his desk. "Fawkes was right all along. You sneaky sonofabitch, you've got the kid tagged!"

Borden squared his shoulders and met Hobbes' accusation head on, throwing his agent a look of smug indifference.. "So what if we have," he spat. "It's there for his protection." And then with a contemptuous sneer. "Someone's got to watch his back if his partner's not up to the job."

Those words hit Bobby hard, as intended, and he took an unintentional step backwards, his body swaying slightly until he felt Claire's hand on his arm as she moved to stand supportively at his side. Her lovely face was dark with anger as she glared across at Borden

"And as Darien's physician, just when were you going to let me in on this?"

"It was need to…" the Fat Man started, but backed off when he saw the unsettling look on the woman's face.

"Don't even go there," she snapped in warning, fighting her own burning anger and a sense that she'd somehow failed Darien…again

Borden visibly stiffened "I don't see what difference…" This time his words were interrupted by the incessant buzzing sound coming from Hobbes, who fumbled his cell phone from his inside pocket and flipped it open.

"Bobby Hobbes."

The male voice on the other end was cool and business like.

"_Agent Hobbes, I urge you to pay attention and keep this to yourself if you want to see your partner again. Is there anyone with you at the moment?" _

Bobby gazed around at the four expectant faces all focused on him.. "Uh…um…yeah, that's an affirmative,." he advised his caller, and then for the benefit of his audience shrugged apologetically. "It's my shrink… calling to confirm my next appointment."

Claire looked slightly unconvinced, but then turned away to continue bickering with The Official.

The man on the other end heard the exchange and chuckled. _"Good. Now remember this,"_ he quickly reeled off another cell phone number which Hobbes committed to memory instantly. _"We'll expect your call in approximately 10 minutes. That should give you enough time seek some privacy. And Agent Hobbes,"_ the voice added smoothly, it's tone sending a shiver down his spine. "_If you're late making the call, or if we have suspect that anybody else is listening, then we'll send start sending Fawkes back to you…a little piece at a time."_

* * *

They took Darien below deck to a small windowless cabin, and left him there long enough to dry himself and change into the clothing provided - a pair of long khaki shorts and a dark ill-fitting, baggy sweater, probably cast offs belonging to a member of the crew who was vaguely his height and size. He'd curled up for awhile on one of the bunks, wrapping a blanket tightly around himself in an effort to alleviate the chill that seemed to have seeped into his bones. He was still shivering uncontrollably when Dino and another goon led him back to the luxurious main salon where their boss was waiting.

Frankie was there, sitting ramrod straight on one of the two white leather couches, with her head down nervously fingering the little gold chain around her neck. . Her eyes met Darien's as he was roughly pushed down into a chair at the lacquered dining table opposite her brother, and then looked away quickly.

Even without being able to look to her for an explanation, Darien sensed that something had changed. Any further confirmation he needed came in the form of Dominic Casati's satisfied smirk as he slid a cell phone casually across the table. Darien just stared at it blankly.

"When that rings, you answer it," he instructed sharply. "It'll be your partner, Agent Hobbes. Tell him where the disk is and then I'll tell him how to get it to us." Casati leaned across so that his face was just inches from Darien's own ashen one. "Play this straight and don't try anything stupid, otherwise you'll be paying the fishes another visit.. Do you understand?"

Darien nodded and then flinched as Casati patted his cheek. "Good boy."

When the thing started buzzing right on cue, Darien ran a hand across his eyes, took a deep breath and then reached for the cell as ordered.

"Bobby, it's me," he started shakily.

Any sense of relief he felt at hearing Bobby's voice was tempered by the verbal onslaught that came from the other end, and he held the phone away from his ear and winced.

"Yeah, I know…Yeah, I'm one of those too." He ran a hand through his hair as he waited for his friend to finish 'venting', so that he could maybe get a word in and after a pause tried again, this time more forcefully. "Whoa, whoa there tiger." The frustration finally getting to him as he snapped, "Bobby, for crying out loud will you just freakin' listen!" A brief pause followed as he drew in another unsteady breath ready to continue as soon as he had his partner's full attention. "There's something I need you to get for me and then you gotta give it to these…people..." He quickly told Bobby where to find the disk - stashed unimaginatively beneath some clothing in his locker in Lab 4 - and when he'd finished he rolled his eyes and handed the cell across to Casati.. "He wants to talk to you."

Casati managed to keep his cool during the mostly one-sided conversation, though he was eventually able to give Hobbes instructions on where and when to make the drop. But Darien could tell he was rattled by the way he finished the call and slammed the phone down onto the table. "Well, that was colorful"

Darien smirked. "Whatsamatter Dom? Has Hobbesy got ya spooked?"

Casati matched Darien's grin with a darker one of his own. "Agent Hobbes warned me that a lot of very important people would hunt me down and gut me like a fish if I harmed a single hair on your head." He mulled over Hobbes' words and then studied Darien curiously. "So, what suddenly makes you …a thief and a con.. so valuable?"

"You really have no idea," Darien muttered, rubbing the back of his neck absently. "And by the way, that's _ex-thief_ and _ex-con_ to you. These days I'm strictly legit."

"Once a thief, always a thief.." Casati leaned back in his chair and studied the other man intently. "As we've got a bit of time on our hands until the exchange, maybe you, me and Dino," he indicated to where the WWF wannabe hovered at his menacing best a few feet behind Darien, "should have a friendly little 'chat' about how you broke into my house, huh." The undertone of the threat in those words not lost on Darien, but he had too much else on his mind to let it bother him - much.

Seeing Darien's gaze shift once again to his sister, Casati decided to change tact.

"Give it up, Fawkes," he spat acidly. "Don't you get it? Francesca doesn't want you any more - you've served your purpose." Casati stood and moved across to stand behind the couch, both hands gripping Frankie's shoulders as if claiming ownership.

"What she _needs_ is her loving family to protect her, which is why she's agreed to come with me to Costa Rica. We'll be staying with an old friend until things have cooled off back here - or until those lawyers of mine have earned their money." Casati ran the back of a hand gently across his sister's head.. "And when Mama is well enough, she'll join us too."

"Look me in the eye and tell me that's true, Frankie," the pain was evident in Darien's voice.

What followed was an almost intolerable silence until Casati leaned down to whisper something to Frankie, who nodded and then raised her head to stare directly at Darien, no hint of emotion in her green eyes.

"I'm sorry, but that's how it is,." her response was cold and detached. She shrugged. "I've missed my old life…and family…too much.."

Darien didn't even try to conceal his disappointment. "So I guess the whole _you and me_ thing was one big sham, huh? A means to an end. "

For a moment, Frankie almost looked as if she was about to waver, but then took a deep breath to compose herself.. "I do…did…care, but this way we can both just get on with our lives. It's for the best, you'll see."

"Get real, baby," Darien snorted derisively. "As far as your brother's concerned, I don't have a life much beyond today. Once he's got the disk, I'm a dead man. Isn't that right, Dom?" He carried on, not really expecting a response from Casati. "Apart from everything else, I saw him murder an FBI Agent in cold blood. Okay, so maybe Ralphy was dirty, but in the eyes of the law it's still murder in the first."

"And I assume that unlike Francesca, you'd be more than willing to take the witness stand?" Casati asked sardonically, even though he already knew the answer.

"You betcha!"

* * *

It was about an hour after sunset, and the brightly twinkling lights along the nearby coastline told Darien that they were probably moored a mile or so from shore. The cool breeze that drifted in from the ocean was enough to set him shivering again, and he was doing his best to ignore the throbbing in his head and feeling of all-over crappiness that had been his constant companion of late - definitely made worse by his little dip in the Pacific earlier on.

With cuffs now firmly back in place around his wrists, he'd been hustled out onto the lower deck, where he now stood with Dino to his right with one meaty hand clamped around his bicep and the other holding the semi-automatic currently jammed into his rib cage.

Casati was already there but barely gave Darien a second glance, preferring instead to peer intently out across the dark water, his head inclined to one side…listening. Soon Darien heard it too; the low hum of a high-powered engine getting steadily closer. Within minutes the power boat came alongside and a line was tossed up quickly to one of the crew who caught and secured it..

The first person to come aboard was Summer, looking stunning in a pair of tight fitting white pants and a red and white striped halter neck, blonde hair swept back in a pony tail. She shared a tight smile with Casati and seemed to be trying to tell him something, motioning with her eyes. Behind her came another of Casati's goons - the one who'd presumably piloted the power boat - and right on his heels, gun firmly clasped in one hand while using the other to scale the ladder came Bobby Hobbes.

Casati cursed as Hobbes leveled the gun in his direction.

"Sorry, boss," said the man from the boat, shrugging apologetically. "He got the drop on us at the marina. Took out Max and Carlos and then grabbed Miss Daye. We didn't have a choice."

Casati looked anything but impressed and his glare literally had the man squirming in place before he turned his attention back to Hobbes. "I make it a rule never to underestimate the opposition, Agent Hobbes," he advised conversationally. "Which is why I arranged this little greeting party as a precaution." He indicated casually over to where Darien stood with Dino, grimacing as the big brute's grip on him intensified and the barrel of the automatic pushed harder into his ribs.

"You okay, partner?" Bobby shifted his gaze momentarily and called across to Darien, the gun aimed at Casati not wavering an inch.

"Yeah, just peachy!" Darien retorted . "Hobbes, please say you brought backup - the coastguard, the navy, a lifeguard…anything? Or at least tell me you've got a plan?" he ventured hopefully.

Hobbes managed to look insulted. "Bobby Hobbes always has a plan, my friend…but on this occasion we're gonna have to rely on at bit of the ole Improv."

"Aw crap." Darien muttered, rolling his eyes just as Dino changed position and yanked him backwards, one powerful arm going around his neck.

"Toss your weapon overboard,." Casati continued. "Just one word from me and Dino will snap his neck."

"Yeah, and the second that happens shit face, I'm gonna put one right between your creepy eyes," Bobby warned acidly.

While all this was going on a bewildered looking Summer was watching everything from across the deck. She had no real idea what was going on, just that Dominic had that scary look on his face; the one he got when someone had pissed him off or things weren't going his way. But none of this was her fault, was it?. She'd only done what Dominic had told her to do - which was go to the marina with Mickey and the boys, and collect a disk or something from this Agent Hobbes.

The fight that had ensued had scared her half to death. Then Hobbes, who was sort of cute, had grabbed her and forced Mickey to bring them all out to the _Summer Breeze. _But that still didn't explain whyDino was doing his best to squeeze the life out of Donald the hunky pool guy!

"Seems we've got ourselves a stand off then, " Dominic was saying with an amused glint in his eyes, as Summer edged even closer to grasp his arm. "What do you suggest we do about it Agent Hobbes?"

"I _suggest_ you honor the deal," came Hobbes' calm response. "You want this,." he carefully reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out the clear plastic case containing a disk, holding it up for the other man to see., "and all I want is my partner. A straight swap, then we get to take the power boat back to terra firma and you and all your little gangster buddies can sail off into the sunset and live happily ever after for all I care."

Casati slowly looped his arm around Summer's shoulders..

"The trouble with that, Agent Hobbes, " he said after a pause, "is that your partner broke into my house." Hobbes shot Darien a reprimanding 'look' and received an unrepentant shrug in return, despite the huge arm still encircling his neck. Casati continued. "And for all I know he's been scheming with little sis to get me to pay up for the disk. So you see, we have a major conflict of interest here…if I let him walk, then I lose respect, and respect is all that keeps me at the top of my game."

"Yeah, and what about the fact that you're a freakin' psycho!" Darien managed to choke out, which earned him a growled curse from Dino, who started to increase the pressure of the strangle hold. With his air supply now seriously restricted, Darien began to gasp and his cuffed hands pulled desperately at the big man's arm.

At the very instant Hobbes' attention diverted to his partner, Casati grabbed hold of Summer and with a violent shove sent the shocked young woman hurling across the deck straight at Hobbes, who raised his hands instinctively to lessen the impact of the collision. Bobby realized his mistake too late as something hard and very painful struck him across the back of the head just as the squealing woman crashed into his body, sending him to the ground in an untidy heap with Summer going down on top of him. Then a booted foot stamped down painfully on his wrist and the gun was wrenched from his fingers by the hood who'd snuck up from behind, retrieving the disk deftly from the other hand at the same time. .

As a seriously freaked Summer was pulled up and off of him, Bobby turned his head and his gaze locked with Darien, who was now on his knees with his hands to his throat, frantically trying to draw in a breath. With a shake of his head and a tight smile he eventually found his voice.

"Some rescue this turned out to be."

* * *

"Call this a rescue?" Darien griped yet again as he irritably bunched up the lumpy pillow and tried to make himself comfortable. The throbbing in his head was just about bearable, but he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to function effectively without some sort of pain relief, and added to that was the intense cold which he still couldn't get under control - despite the blanket covering his body he shivered convulsively.

"Yeah, well if that's the kinda thanks I get for saving your skinny ass, then next time I might just leave it at the mercy of the bad guys." Hobbes settled himself into a sitting position on the bunk opposite with his back propped against the wall.

In the hour or so since they'd been dumped in the small cabin - presumably until Casati decided exactly what to do with them - he'd witnessed more evidence of Darien's rapidly declining condition, with a degree of concern that he was determined to conceal from his friend . He couldn't afford to let his own fears stand in the way of his plan to get them both out of this mess in one piece, and Darien back to the safety of his Keeper before…well, he didn't want to dwell on that, but Claire's dire warning about the Gland was still fresh in his mind..

Lost in thought, it took him a minute to realize Darien was speaking again, and Bobby could hear the hurt.

"You were right all along about those mob chicks, Hobbesy. She was just using me."

"That was just me sounding off, buddy ," he shifted around to watch his friend. "I mean are you sure? 'Cause honestly little Frankie didn't seem the type to me.. Just the way she looks at you..."

"I'm sure," Darien cut in tersely. "But hey, story of my life, man. Don't know why I was expecting anything else."

"Darien…"

"Don't, Bobby."

"Don't what? I didn't say nothing yet."'

"Just don't go all misty-eyed and understanding on me, cause that's just gonna remind me what a complete fuck-up I am."

Silence. And then…

"Bobby Hobbes ain't about to get misty-eyed…and you're not a _complete_ fuck-up_."_

Darien muttered something , but this time when Bobby stared across at him he couldn't help but notice the slow grin spreading across his partner's pale face. "Does this rescue count as a complete fuck up too?"

"Well I never said the ole' Improv technique was infallible," Bobby countered with a chuckle of his own.

Darien wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself, and after some tossing and turning finally settled and seemed to drift off to sleep. Bobby waited for a couple of minutes then got up, pulling the blanket from his own bunk and tucking it tightly around his friend. When he'd finished he stood back and only then noticed that Darien's eyes were half opened, and watching him intently.

"Thanks…Hobbesey," he said wearily, struggling to find the words. .

"For what, buddy?" Hobbes asked softly.

"Everything…" was all he managed before sleep claimed him properly this time.

* * *

Claire peered anxiously over Eberts' shoulder as he worked quickly and efficiently at the computer down in The Keep, trying to get a fix on Darien's location. The anger she'd displayed earlier on discovering that her Kept had been implanted with a tracking device, put on hold with the realization that this was probably their only real means of finding him.

"The last positive sighting we have of Robert was just after noon today at the marina, but since then nothing…" Eberts was giving a running commentary, mostly for the benefit of Charles Borden who paced restlessly up and down behind them. "…and if as we suspect Darien and Robert are being held somewhere off shore…"

"Then interference from state-of-the-art navigation or communications equipment might go some way to explaining why the tracking signal has been on the fritz," Alex Monroe cut in from over his other shoulder. Eberts nodded enthusiastically.

They had the Fish's full attention now also. "Eberts, check with the FBI to find out if Casati owns a boat of any description!"

"Already on it, sir," came the younger man's response as his fingers glided over the keyboard. "Here we are…the _Summer Breeze, _which is actually registered in his mother's name. A …motor yacht."

Monroe whistled appreciatively as a picture of the luxury vessel downloaded.

"Check with the coastguard. see if there have been any sightings of it." Borden ordered

"One step ahead of you, sir."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Just before first light, Darien and Bobby were hauled unceremoniously from the cabin by Dino and two of the thugs-for-hire, and brought to the lower deck where Dominic Casati was already waiting for them.

He was enjoying himself…a lot. He always did when things were going his way. And with the disk and the explosive information it contained now in his possession, he could ensure the identity of his 'contacts' - many of them in positions of influence and power - stayed a secret, unless he chose to use the information to his own advantage at some point in the future. He wasn't adverse to a bit of blackmail if a situation called for it.

For now though all he really wanted to make his life complete was to be rid of Darien Fawkes and his partner, and with them any evidence linking him to Keating's murder or their abduction…and disappearance.

"Well gentlemen. I'd like to say it's been a pleasure but…"

"Save the crappy cliché's for somebody who gives a shit," Hobbes countered venomously. "And don't think it's over, cause our people won't sit back and let you get away with this."

An indifferent shrug. "Well, '_your people' _would have to find me first and I've paid good money to ensure that doesn't happen. Plus they'd also need some hard evidence, and I suspect there won't be much in the way of…remains…by the time your bodies wash ashore." His comment was rewarded by an appreciative belly laugh from Dino and the two other goons.. "Though by the look of him," he gestured at Darien who was leaning against the outer wall of the main salon just struggling to stay upright, " I don't think he's going to offer much in the way of nutritional value to the sea life around here."

Taking a step closer to Darien, Casati found his path blocked almost immediately by Hobbes whose dark expression held the promise of some serious damage if he dared to touch his friend. But all it took was a quick gesture before two pairs of hands roughly grabbed the agent and yanked him out of the way, so that their boss could get to his intended target. Despite looking like he was about to keel over a moment or so before, Darien somehow managed to push himself away from the wall and straighten to his full height at the man's approach, determined not to show any sign of weakness.

This little act of bravado wasn't lost on Casati, who smiled coldly as he confronted the taller man.

"I just thought you should know that it didn't take that much to make Francesca finally seen sense Fawkes.," he said almost conversationally. "Guess she finally realized exactly what she'd be giving up for a lost cause like you, huh?" Darien kept his gaze defiant, refusing to show any emotion, so Casati stepped up the torment.

"You know, if it hadn't been for little sis's intervention I would've put you six feet under all those years ago when you were both playing at being _Romeo and Juliet_. But this time she really couldn't give a damn, if she did she'd be here right now, wouldn't she!" To make his point, Casati gestured around at the mostly empty expanse of deck and then without warning grabbed hold of Darien, spun him around and shoved him up against the wall…hard.

"Get your hands offa me…," was just about all he managed before a sharp fist pounded into his side.

Somewhere beside him he heard Bobby's howl of outrage and then the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked, and most likely aimed right at Bobby to keep him at bay while Casati had a few final moments of fun with Darien. He pulled him away and then slammed back into the wall a second time, Casati's face hovering just inches from Darien's as he held him up and in place with brute force.

"So, the other big unresolved question of the day is will your partner turn his back on you as well," he said with a smirk. "What are we…5, 6 miles from shore…so a man in his sort of shape might just be able to cover that distance even with the unpredictable currents this far out, but not if he has to keep you afloat too…"

Again he drove a fist viciously into the body and then followed through with another, smiling this time as he was rewarded with a low whimper of pain before finally releasing Darien and letting him sag to his knees.

Hobbes was glaring murderously, with cuffed hands balled into tight fists and his entire body literally shaking with rage. Just about the only thing stopping him from launching himself at Casati and taking his chances was the gun currently jammed into the side of his head.

Casati chuckled as he and Bobby locked gazes. "I guess you're the only one who knows if he's worth the sacrifice, huh Agent Hobbes?"

"He's worth it," Bobby snarled. "Which is more than I can say for you, scumbag. You'd better pray that we don't meet up any time soon."

"Yes, well, there's not much chance of that is there," he responded flippantly, before turning to look at them both for what he expected was the last time, a satisfied smirk in place. "I'd like nothing better than to stay around and join in all the fun, but this sea air combined with all this… excitement… does something to a man's libido and I've got a perfect hot little body waiting in my bed to fix that for me. So, I'm leaving you in the more than capable hands of my boys." He gestured for the big man to follow him into the salon. "Dino, a word." Peering back at Bobby and Darien for one parting shot. "Enjoy your swim."

* * *

With the first rays of sunlight spreading a warm golden glow across the water and caressing the sleek lines of the _Summer Breeze_, Hobbes glanced at his watch and then at his partner and knew they were running out of time.

Casati's two goons were deliberately staring in their direction from across the deck, one of them muttering something quietly to the other as they prepared to carry out their bosses orders.

"Fawkes, come on back to me here buddy." Bobby snapped his fingers several times right in front of Darien's glazed eyes, desperately trying to get some sort of response - his partner had 'zoned out' on him again a short time before and he needed to rouse him and quickly. He gave it another go, this time gently slapping the younger man's face until he was rewarded by a blink and then another as Darien finally focused, giving a soft groan as he tried to push himself up off the hard deck.

"Uh, w…what!"

"Take it easy for a second, Fawksey." Hobbes helped his friend into a sitting position and eased him back against the wall, noting the grimace of pain as he tried to flex his arms.

"If those are hurting," he gestured to the cuffs and made a snapping motion, "why don't you just do your thing?"

"I thought I should wait…until we're in the water."

"Listen buddy, I don't think we can risk letting it go that far." Bobby stared at his partner intently. "Help should be on the way by now, but it could be hours before they get a definite fix on us. We're gonna need to make our stand right here on this boat…and soon."

If Darien was in any way curious to know exactly how his Agency colleagues would manage to track them down, this far from the coast and virtually in the middle of nowhere, then he didn't show it. Instead he lifted his t-shirt a little to gingerly probe the tender area of his body where Casati's fist had pummeled him, with Bobby looking on with concern etched all over his face at the site of the angry bruising..

"How're ya doing there, buddy?"

"Ouch!" Darien winced as Hobbes's fingers probed a particularly tender spot. "Well, I've definitely been better. Why what do you have in mind?"

Bobby indicated with his eyes. "I'm guessing that the gruesome twosome over there are just about to follow Big Bad Dom's orders and toss us overboard." He grinned conspiratorially. "You think you're up to some Invisible Improv?"

"Ah, the ole' Invisible Improv," Darien echoed with a weak grin of his own. "I'll give it a try, but I'm not absolutely sure everything's in proper working order with my little roomie up here. The last few times I've Quicksilvered it's felt…different, I can't explain it. Like it's sapping my energy or something."

"Yeah, well the sooner we can get you back to Claire, the happier I'll be." Hobbes muttered. "Uh, oh, here they come. You can do this Fawkes, okay." Bobby said, giving his shoulder a quick reassuring squeeze.

Darien nodded not all that convincingly as the taller of Casati's men - Goon One - waved a gun at them, motioning them both up. With Bobby's help he managed to pull himself to his feet, taking a few calming breaths to steady his already racing heart rate and adrenaline surge.

Meanwhile, Goon Two - the shorter and stockier of the pair - had unlocked the section of handrail that led to the metal ladder, but this time there was no power boat tied below, just an unhindered route straight into the deep water.

"Okay, which of you ladies wants to go first?" he asked with a grin of anticipation. "The water looks real nice from way up here."

Bobby watched as his younger partner called on some hidden energy reserve to move forward on unsteady legs, took a peak over the rail then turned back quickly to face Goon Two

"Nuh uh. I'm not goin' first. Make him go first," Darien shook his head emphatically and jerked his thumb in Hobbes' direction.

Bobby took it up smoothly. "Beauty before age, buddy boy. It's a well known fact."

Darien snorted. "Well known only in the Bobby Hobbes' school of 'Looking out for freakin' No. 1'. Yeah, well I'm not goin' first. The fact that I'm younger than you means I'm due at least 5 extra minutes of living and breathing."

Goon One gaped at the bickering duo incredulously before turning to Goon Two, who shrugged and then tried jabbing his gun deliberately at the two agents who continued to ignore him.

"You know what your problem is Fawkesy?" Bobby smirked, squaring his shoulders and rounding on his partner defiantly.

"Here we go." Darien shook his head and rolled his eyes. "So, what's my problem, _Hobbesy?"_

"Well, Mister-I'm- such- a-hotshot, _you_ are selfish, is what you are."

"Me, selfish. Well coming from you that's…"

"Will you both just SHUT THE HELL UP!" Goon Two yelled in desperation, waving his gun about him as a warning. "Now one of you _jump_ for Chrissakes. We haven't got all day."

Fawkes and Hobbes glanced at each other as if slightly wounded by the man's harsh outburst, then both took a halting step forward and peered down into the waters of the pacific and the churning wake thrown up by the passage of the large yacht.

After a minute or two of contemplating the drop, Darien piped up. ""Okay, I'll go first.." Turning to the two heavies and nodding in Hobbes' direction.. "Actually, it'll be a relief to get away from his bitchin'." Then also for their benefit he scowled at his partner. "And don't think this is over pal, cause I'm gonna be waiting for you on the _other side_."

A snort of contemptuous laughter from Hobbes. "Yeah, and what makes you so sure you're gonna end up in the same place as me, huh?"

Before he turned, Darien glanced deliberately at Hobbes who nodded imperceptibly in return; the two partners always knew what the other one was thinking - words were very rarely needed these days.

"On the count of…one…two…three." Darien took a few steps back and braced himself before taking a running leap for the edge of the boat, disappearing from view completely just as he reached the open section of handrail.

Goon's One and Two exchanged shocked glances.

"Where'd he go?" Asked Goon One, taking an uneasy step towards the precipice.

"What do ya mean '_where'd he go'?" _Hobbes asked sarcastically. "You told him to jump, so he jumped. It's a bit late to start having second thoughts."

"No he didn't. He…he just disappeared." Goon Two was looking equally concerned now, still not sure what he'd just witnessed. "He definitely didn't jump. We woulda heard the splash," he reasoned, looking to his colleague for assurance.

"Nah, if he didn't jump, then where'd he go? He's gotta be fishy food by now.." Hobbes advised with authority.

Goon One was just about to step back to argue the point as an icy force snagged the collar of his shirt jerking him forward, his arms flapping about almost comically as he was pulled off balance to teeter on the very edge of the boat before he seemed to do an odd sort of somersault, plummeting down into the water below with a terrified scream .

Goon Two could only gape, his expression a mix of horror and confusion.. Not more than a couple of seconds elapsed before he decided to raise his gun again just as Hobbes leapt at him easily kicking the weapon from his hand. The man yelped in pain as Hobbes followed through, grabbing onto his arm to spin him around and with one well placed foot to the ass sent him reeling across the deck, where he collided with the handrail and then flipped over it.

For a few seconds, Bobby just stood right where he was. breathing hard, until that familiar strained voice had him rushing for the side.

"Hobbesy, a little help here, man."

Darien had one arm wrapped around the metal rung of the ladder and the other - with a snapped section of cuff still dangling from the wrist - stretching overhead to try to pull himself back on board, but he just didn't have the strength. Hobbes knelt down to get a firm grip on the free hand, then with not much effort yanked his friend up, catching his body as it sagged heavily against him, then easing him down gently onto the deck.

That moment coincided with Dino's reappearance in the doorway of the salon. It took the big man a second to take in the scene before him, and with a shouted obscenity and then a yelled warning to alert other members of the crew, his gun was in his large hand and firing off a shot at the two agents.

Darien had just started to rise when a bullet pinged against the metal handrail just inches from his head. Instinctively Bobby dived at his partner, showing him back into the relative safety of the opposite side of the salon from Dino, shielding his body with his own. He knew though that this was just a temporary haven; it wouldn't take long for Casati's to men surround and overwhelm them.

"You keep that spiky head of yours down before someone takes another pot shot at it, you hear?" Hobbes waited for the younger man's grunted assurance and then smiled grimly as Darien's hand reached out and encircled the handcuff around his right wrist with a band of Quicksilver, shattering the metal bracelet a moment later.

Nodding his thanks, Bobby risked a quick peak around the corner of the salon and across the deck, to where Hood Two's weapon lay exactly where he'd dropped it before going over the side. He knew he had to take the chance to grab it, because without it or a weapon of some sort their chances of survival were not good.

More voices raised in shouted agitation and feet pounding across the deck overhead, spurred Bobby to move. Darting out fast and throwing himself across the deck, his fingers folded around the butt of the gun as several more shots blasted out in quick succession, then just as quickly losing his tenuous grip on the weapon as one of bullets seared a white hot trail of pain across the back of his hand.

Ducking low and cursing bitterly, Bobby pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his pants and wrapped it tightly around his injured hand, steeling himself for another try at reaching the gun when something cold and hard touched the back of his neck. He froze.

"Give it up Fed, time for you and your partner to…" For a moment a sneering Dino thought he'd gained the upper hand as he stood over Bobby finger tightening on the trigger of his gun, then came an icy blast as something solid rammed into him from the side with a force that caught him off guard and took him down heavily, pinning him there. The big man fought off the urge to panic at the weight and pressure on top of him and of the seemingly invisible assailant who grabbed a handful of his hair and rammed his head down hard onto the deck.

"I've… got… him, now get the damn gun Bobby."

Dino shook his head to clear the fog and as he did so a shape began to manifest above him in a glittering display of tiny silver flakes. Certain now that he was hallucinating he shook his head again and when he opened his eyes found himself staring up at a grim faced Darien Fawkes, who was sweating and trembling uncontrollably with the exertion, beads of sweat trickling down his face.

With his left hand Hobbes snagged the gun and in one fluid motion went down on one knee and lined it up to fire two quick shots in succession, just as two more of the crew appeared on the steps leading down from the upper deck. His reward was a satisfying grunt of pain from the man in the lead at the top of the stairs as the bullet slammed into his shoulder, knocking him off balance. As he stumbled backwards, he reached out desperately to grab onto the first thing he could find to steady himself, and ended up taking the man behind him over the handrail and into the water with him with a startled scream of panic.

Pivoting quickly and with every intention of helping his partner - who was no match for the likes of Dino even when in the best of health - Bobby was horrified to see Darien doubled over and gasping from a blow to his already injured mid section. Dino then grabbed his shoulders and savagely head butted him, pushing him backwards where he lay gasping, one hand covering his injured and bloodied nose and the other clutching his stomach. Then with a harsh backhand he was on the deck and Dino was on top, the heavy body mass crushing down and the big hands pummeling him. Darien didn't move, didn't struggle, he simply had no energy or inclination left to fight with.

With a roar of unadulterated anger, Hobbes was about to move when something struck him from behind, and he staggered bruising his hip as he collided with the handrail. Turning he wasn't surprised to see Dominic Casati standing just a few feet away, beckoning him forward with the small gun he held in his hand.

"Why don't you just give it up now, Agent Hobbes, stop prolonging the inevitable. You're both as good as dead,." he said with a sneer which turned into a shout of surprise as the small man suddenly launched himself at him, taking Casati down under a deluge of perfectly placed kicks and punches and easily prizing the gun from his hand. All Casati could do was cower under the onslaught, until finally Hobbes was violently shoving the muzzle of the gun into his mouth, chipping a couple of teeth in the process.

"If we're going asshole, you're coming with us."

At that moment, Casati experienced true fear as he stared up at into those dark eyes and for the first time in a long time he was really afraid. Then salvation came in the form of a loud gun shot, the steady voice that accompanied it had them all freezing in place.

"All of you just …STOP!"

Frankie had positioned herself on the deck above so that she could cover them all, the gun in her hand unwavering. She jerked it about for emphasis. " The next one who moves I will shoot!"

Casati breathing heavily, pushed the gun and Bobby's hand to one side and grinned casting a triumphant glance across to where Dino, who had so easily gained the upper hand in his struggle with Darien, now had him sprawled on the deck, using his superior mass to its full advantage as he crushed the lean body beneath him.

"Get off of him…now!" Frankie hissed.

"Good girl, Francesca," Casati crowed, doing his best to conceal the unmitigated terror of a moment before as he prepared to push Hobbes off of him and get upright - then the Fed and his partner would be well and truly sorry. "Good to see you really understand where your loyalties lie, my sweet."

A look of both anger and incredulity flashed across the lovely face as his words sunk in, and she shifted slightly to amend the aim of her gun.

"I'm not talking to you," she snapped irritably. "In fact, Bobby, feel free to give the murdering bastard a hard slap from me." Ignoring her brother's outraged and then pain-filled gasp just as Bobby's fist hit home, Frankie cocked the weapon deliberately closing one eye as she sited on her proper target. "Dino, you have five seconds to get your fat ass off of my boy before I blow a hole in it."

An instant later and to Darien's overwhelming relief the huge weight was gone from his battered self, leaving him just lying there trying to convince his body parts to move…or do anything at all. Then Frankie was calling out.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"No….I think he flattened me," came the pathetic groaned response.

Meanwhile, a dazed and bleeding Casati, was being roughly hauled on his knees to where Dino was now hunched, with Bobby using his feet to kick the two men into the back to back position he wanted, before he grabbed a long length of rope and looped it around them, knotting it tightly.

Frankie waited until he'd finished and then handed the gun over with a wan smile before crossing to where Darien lay, and a moment later she was on the deck cradling him in her arms, whispering gentle words. Bobby smiled and nodded as he caught her gaze before she turned her attention back to Darien.

"This is far from over," Casati snarled through swollen lips, bringing Bobby's focus back on him.. "My lawyers will…"

"Just stop with the hard-assed gangster routine," Bobby growled impatiently. "You're seriously delusional if you think you're ever gonna see the light of day again after this." He hunkered down next to the man. "You've pushed her too far and I've got a feeling that nothing's gonna keep little Frankie from the witness stand this time. Course, that's always supposing you even make it as far as a proper court of law."

"W..what do you mean?"

Bobby relished the note of anxiety that had crept into Casati's voice.

"Well, see Fawksey aint no ordinary Federal Agent, so when our Chief gets through pulling your balls out through your nose for kidnapping and damaging him, we'll no doubt be making quite a few arrests." Bobby leaned close in so that his face was just inches from Casati's, really enjoying himself now. "And what do you suppose those so-called 'friends' of yours are gonna think, when they hear that you've tried to cut a deal with the Feds by handing over a disk full of their names… and details of all the dirty payments they've taken from you over the years, huh?"

Despite his close proximity to Hobbes - he could feel the man's breath on his face - Casati didn't even try to conceal a smirk. "What disk?" he asked pointedly, and behind him Dino snorted in amusement.

Bobby stood and stretched popping the tired and stiff muscles in his arms and neck, all the while smiling along with the two men., letting them have their moment. "Oh, that's right…the disk. I'm guessing you've destroyed the one I brought with me, right? But, see I've just remembered that I found a couple of them in Fawksey's locker and in all the confusion I may have mixed them up - guess they all look the same to me.. Now lemme think," he pursed his lips and stared off into the distance as if trying to recall some really important fact. "I handed one to my Chief before I left and the other one…oh yeah, it was called something like 'Baywatch Babes'…." he let his words trail away, staring smugly from one man to the other. "Don't tell me you didn't check the disk?" His answer lay in the stunned look on Dino's face and the cold mask of pure fury washing over Casati's. "And who said there was no trust left in this world, huh?"

Dominic Casati looked truly stunned. "I'm a dead man," he stated flatly, the reality of his predicament finally cutting through the layers of arrogance and smug self-belief, and hitting home hard.

"Only if you get real lucky," came Bobby's indifferent response as he turned his back on the man and walked across the deck, sinking down wearily next to where Frankie sat huddled with Darien to wait for the back up he hoped was on its way.

Almost on cue from somewhere off in the distance came the sound of a helicopter, followed by the unmistakable drone of a large power boat - most probably the coastguard..

Feeling his partner's presence as he settled next to him, Darien pulled his face up and out of Frankie's lap. "I can't believe you gave them my Baywatch DVD," he whined.

"All in a good cause, my friend," Bobby assured, patting his back sympathetically.

* * *

And then suddenly it was all over.

The _Summer Breeze _was soon swarming with armed Agency personnel and a team of FBI Agents, led by Alex Monroe and Dee Davies, who rounded up and cuffed Casati and his gang, manhandling them all onto the two coastguard launches idling alongside.

Claire was among the first group of arrivals and had wasted no time in getting to her Kept, who'd groaned, "Oh great, here come the shots.' the minute he spotted her. Darien now lay on the deck with his head still nestling on Frankie's knees, refusing to let go his vice -like grip on her hand the whole time his Keeper examined him, doing what she could with her portable medical kit to alleviate some of the pain and soreness from his three cracked ribs and numerous other cuts and abrasions. The more serious and worrying issues connected with his overall health would need to be treated when she had the proper medical facilities and equipment at her disposal, and that was why the US Navy helicopter hovered overhead, just waiting for the order to approach and airlift the high-priority patient and his doctor to Fort Leavitt.

But there was a problem; the patient was refusing to leave unless Frankie could go with him, while Davies insisted that his orders were that she had to be taken back into the FBI's protective custody immediately for her own safety.

"Bobby, Alex do something…please," Darien looked over pleadingly to where his partner sat just a few feet away as a medic finished bandaging his injured hand. Thinking Bobby hadn't heard him, Darien made another try at pushing himself upright, ignoring Claire's hissed admonishment and Frankie's hands on his shoulders trying to keep him calm, but it was actually the sharp twist of pain in his chest that had him falling back with a loud gasp.

"Darien, if you don't lie still I will have to sedate you," Claire warned sternly. Visibly annoyed now she turned to stare at the FBI agent hovering just behind them. "Agent Davies, I would be very grateful if you and your men could move right away for the moment and allow me some space to work. Francesca's hardly going to run away now is she! Besides, you're agitating my patient and he's agitating me...as usual." She gave Frankie the flicker of an indulgent smile as she leaned back over Darien, deftly inserting an IV line into the back of his hand.

As the medic finished with him, Bobby sprung to his feet cradling his injured hand. Glaring at Davies deliberately and taking charge of the situation "What's gonna happen, is that the lovely Miss Casati will travel with my partner to the hospital and then spend a few hours with him until he's settled. I will personally vouch for her safety during this time."

"My order's are specific …" Davies started to protest, but stopped as soon as he recognized that as far as Hobbes was concerned this was non-negotiable. Alex Monroe took her place beside Bobby.

"You have my word too, Agent Davies," she informed him. "And I'll oversee the transfer myself."

Davies looked from one to the other and then after a long pause nodded slowly in agreement.

Claire gestured to the medic. "Okay, let's get him on the stretcher and ready for transfer."


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Bobby!"

Hobbes turned at the sound of the familiar female voice calling out to him, and smiled warmly, if a little wearily, as he stopped and waited for Claire to hurriedly catch up with him, her heels clicking loudly down the expanse of white tiled hospital corridor.

It had been a long and eventful couple of days and he was just looking forward to spending some quality time with his partner, before going home for a long soak in a hot tub, maybe a cold beer and then an early night.

Frankie Casati had been allowed a few hours with Darien after he'd been admitted here at Fort Leavitt, then Hobbes had reluctantly had to part the couple in order to keep his side of the bargain, and he and Alex Monroe had personally delivered the young woman back into the protective custody of the FBI.

Most of his time since then and in the wake of the 'Casati Incident', as it was now being officially referred to, had been taken up with a seemingly endless round of reports and long drawn out debriefings with both the Bureau and The Agency - though that one had consisted mainly of a heated grilling from the Fat Man on Darien's actions during the whole event, and whether or not he'd had cause to misuse the Quicksilver Hobbes's vehement denials and assurances had gone some way to appeasing Borden - he hoped.

Borden had calmed significantly when Eberts had stepped in to suggest that maybe they could _'overlook Darien's reckless behavior on this occasion' _after all, his actions had netted them the disk, and the names and information contained on it could prove very 'useful'.

_Yeah, for 'useful' read 'profitable' _Hobbes thought with grim amusement.

His smile brightened as soon as the lovely doctor was standing right there in front of him, and he leaned forward slightly to breath in her musky perfume, sighing inwardly. What he wouldn't give for an early night with….her fingers gently squeezing his arm and her words bringing him right back to the here and now.

"You're looking tired, Bobby," she was saying gently, cutting into his reverie.

"Yeah, well there ain't been much time for the ole R&R lately," he responded with a wry grin, unconsciously rubbing a hand across tired eyes. "Time enough for that when Fawksey's on the mend, eh Keep?"

Claire nodded her head and forced a tight smile of her own, though her eyes were telling a whole different story, one which he wasn't sure he was ready to hear just yet.

"How's my boy?"

"Impossible…as always," she answered with a snort of laughter. "Fretting over Frankie though. She'll be alright won't she Bobby?"

"Yeah. She's already confirmed that she aims to testify against her bastard of a brother this time. Not even his fancy lawyers can get him out of this one - murder in the first, two counts, not to mention the kidnapping and attempted murder of Federal Agents etcetera - Dominic Casati is going down for ever."

"What then?" Claire pressed.

Bobby shrugged. "Who knows. Witness Protection, I guess. Her brother might be out of the loop, but he has some very powerful friends…and then there's the family, they could try to get to her before the case even comes to court."

Claire sighed. "Poor Darien., he hasn't stopped asking about her. I don't think I've ever seen him quite like this…." her words trailed away as she cast another wistful glance at the door to her Kept's room, vaguely acknowledging the security guard posted right outside.

"Well, if the kid wants to be with her, then I'm just gonna have to find some way to make it happen. He deserves that much,." Bobby stated adamantly, before reaching into his back pocket and withdrawing something.

"What's that?" Claire asked curiously.

"It's a baseball cap," he advised with an amused shake of his head, holding the item in question aloft so that Claire could see the 'Rubber Ducky' logo on the front. "Frankie asked me to make sure Darien got it, said he'd know what it meant."

An uneasy silence suddenly fell between them, which ended with Bobby shuffling his feet and clearing his throat nervously. "Ya know Claire, you never really answered my question…when I asked how he was."

This time he caught the look on her face just before she turned away, her shoulders sagging. Bobby reached out to grab Claire's arm and pulled her around to face him. The tear tracks on her face more than enough to make his heart skip a beat, in their own way telling him what he already suspected. The news was going to be bad.

"Claire, speak to me," he urged softly, fighting the overwhelming urge to violently shake the information out of her.

"The…the results are mostly inconclusive," she sniffed, doing her best to square her shoulders and adopt a semi-professional manner, but failing miserably when she saw the anguish in Bobby's eyes. "But we think that the Gland is beginning to malfunction…to die…and it's taking Darien with it."

Bobby released his grip on her and stumbled back a few steps until he hit the wall and he could go no further, grateful for the hard surface as without it he didn't think his legs would actually support him at that moment. A long time passed before he could find his voice. The solution was obvious to Hobbes, so why couldn't Claire see it.

"Then you've gotta find a way to get it out of him," he stated tersely.

Claire approached and touched his face. "Don't you think I would have done that already, if there was even the slightest chance it could save him." She waited until his gaze met hers before continuing. "Darien's my friend too, Bobby."

He pushed himself away from the wall and stared absently off into the distance, scrubbing his face with his hands. .

"Does he know?"

Claire shook her head. "I…I was hoping you might help me tell him," she responded nervously, not relishing the thought of having to handle the dreaded task alone.

Bobby nodded without hesitation. "Yeah…of course. I wouldn't want it any other way."

He took a couple of hesitant steps towards the door to Darien's room, but Claire's hand covered his as it folded around the handle.

"It's not over until it's over, Bobby," she assured, for both of their benefits. "I'm not going to lose him without a bloody great fight."

God he loved this woman. And at that moment he realized just how much the dysfunctional group had all come to mean to each other, the depth of that commitment and sentiment evident in her eyes.

"I know, and I trust you," he said softly.

Then he quickly composed himself and pushed on the door to enter. Darien's weak voice cheerfully drifting over to greet them both.

"Hey, Hobbesy, Keepie. Wazzup?"

**THE END**

Story arc to be completed in 'Obsession' …coming soon.


End file.
